Law Students Verse One Shots
by Babylawyer
Summary: Collection of prompts and one shots in my law students verse
1. Satisfied

Regina had realized two things studying for the bar exam. First, that she associated studying with sex—probably because for the past two and half years she had soothed her exam anxiety in Robin's arms. Second, that anxious Robin did not share her coping mechanisms. In fact, the more anxious he got about the exam, the more he pulled away from her. She couldn't blame him for being anxious, as she was surprisingly calm about it. Normally, Regina would work herself up into a big panic when studying for exams, paranoid of failing, notwithstanding the fact that she had never failed a class and was second in their year. But second wasn't good enough for Regina (or maybe that was her internalization of her Mother's expectations). She wanted to be first, so she pushed herself hard, and at times too hard, desperately trying to beat Mary-Margaret Blanchard who had stolen the top spot from her in first and second year.

Robin had been the one to bring her back when she pushed herself too hard, the one to soothe her tears when she woke up crying after stress dreaming she failed her exams and generally saving her from her own worst enemy, herself. It had always been her freaking out about exams, while Robin stayed calm and went with the flow. Now the tables had turned. Robin was the one freaking out about failing an exam and Regina was the calm one. It was a situation neither of them knew how to deal with.

She should have seen this coming. After all, Regina stressed herself out by constantly pushing herself to do better, but with this test, there is no better. Either she passed, or she failed, and given how well she had done in law school failing was highly unlikely. It wasn't the same for Robin, his grades were below average, and he had convinced himself that his low GPA meant that he was much more likely to fail. Studying with Regina probably didn't help with that either. They had set their study schedule together, and the first day Regina finished her scheduled reading by 3pm while Robin finished at 10pm. Regina was way ahead of schedule, while Robin struggled each day not to fall behind.

As a result, there was new tension in their relationship. Regina didn't want to flaunt when she finished before him, but she also didn't want to have to skulk around their apartment quietly for hours until he finished. Robin had picked up on her lame attempts to amuse herself without disturbing him and had started going to the library once she finished. That helped with Regina's boredom, but also meant that they were barely interacting. They chatted briefly in the morning, but then Robin was all business until he left for the library. Often times, Robin wouldn't come back until she was asleep.

She's missed talking to him, about things other than the stupid bar materials. She's missed his smile, his jokes and his laugh. She's missed snuggling up with him on the couch and watching a movie. She's missed hugging him, kissing him, feeling him. She's missed connecting with him in all ways, but she has also really missed the sex.

Sex was her go to way to destress, and Robin had always been more than happy to oblige, but now things were different. So, Regina was trying to use other endorphin releasing activities to destress, without success. Regina had gone to more power yoga classes in the past two weeks than ever before, but while they exhausted her physically, she couldn't turn off that part of her brain that was craving Robin's touch. It didn't help that every time she flowed into certain poses her mind went to that time she and Robin decided to see how many yoga poses they could have sex in.

She had texted Robin before she left for class to see where he was at, and he had 15 pages left to read. So it wasn't likely he'd be home when she got back. Sure enough, the door was locked, and all the lights were off in their apartment. She had really hoped he would be home so they could engage in some 'mutual destressing,' but luck was not on her side, though it did give her time to shower. She had tried and failed to logically convince him that morning, telling him an orgasm would help him concentrate, (and it would have), but he had just laughed at her feeble attempt to talk him into sleeping with her. While she knew some sure-fire ways to get him going, she didn't want to interrupt his plan for the day or make it so he fell behind on his reading. She sucked it up, something that was becoming harder and harder to do.

He was just so attractive and so _so_ good in bed that she couldn't keep sleeping beside him without satisfying her needs. She had never craved anyone like she did him, and right now, the craving was intense. Her mind had drifted way too many times to him that day, despite the fact that she was reading about estate planning, which seemingly had nothing to with him. Yet, that didn't stop her mind from thinking of him every time she read conjugal relationship and imaging a way they could be conjugating at that moment. At this rate, she could kiss studying goodbye if he didn't take care of her soon.

She had just finished braiding her hair after her shower when she heard the door open, and she ran out to greet him, it was probably a bit over-eager, but she really didn't care anymore. She was fighting the urge to throw herself at him when she greeted him and asked if he'd eaten already.

When the answer is yes, she kisses him hard, throwing all of her want and need into the kiss. After a second, he starts kissing her back with equal passion. She pushes him back up against the wall and continues kissing him greedily, growing more and more desperate for him by the second. She moans in his mouth as his hands slide down her back. At the same time, she grabs onto his sides, pulling him closer into her.

He pulls away for a second, and she braces herself for rejection.

But he smiles down at her. "If I had known this was the greeting I was going to get, I would have left hours ago." Then he smirks at her asking, "What brought this on?" as if he wasn't aware she'd been subtly trying to go to bed with him for a week now.

"I… just… missed… you," she moans, as he trailed kisses up the side of her neck before gently sucking on her earlobe. "Oh fuck that's good." God, she is already way too keyed up for how little he has touched her.

"Why don't we take this to our room so I can ravish your properly," he suggests in a low tone that sends a shiver down her back.

"Fine by me," she flirts, before practically sprinting toward their room.

"Wow, someone's eager."

"Well, maybe if someone had taken my advice this morning I wouldn't be." She's thinking up a better retort, but he kisses her again, and that is so much better than talking. Their kisses grow frantic as he pushes her down onto their bed. He climbs on top of her, peppering kisses on her neck, setting her more on fire with each one. She needs him to speed this up a bit. Her clit is throbbing, she desperately needs some friction against it, but he's on his knees using his arms to hold himself up as he kisses down her chest. She can't rock against the erection she knows is there. She's tempted to beg him to speed it up, but she's afraid it would make him tease her more, and she might die if he does that.

He brings his mouth back to hers, kissing her senseless, and she lets out another moan when he lowers himself onto her, so she can _finally_ get some friction from rocking against him. Then he stops (bastard) moving off of her. If he stops this, she will murder him. She squeezes her legs together to feel something, but it isn't enough, she _needs_ more. She looks over at him rooting through their bedside drawer. She hadn't thought she could be more turned on, but the anticipation over what he is getting is driving her mad. Is he going to use her vibrator, blindfold her, tie her up? No matter what, she's in for it.

She swallows hard when he selects the ties, he always teases her relentlessly when she's tied up and can't do anything about it. The look in his eye tells her this time will be no different. And fuck she hates that (she loves that), but god, the waiting, it's torture. He loops one around the right post of their bed frame, reaches for her wrist, but she stops him.

"Wait," she says, pulling her shirt off over her head, not wanting to be stuck in it for the duration.

He lets out a little sound of approval starring at her now bare breasts—she hadn't bothered putting a bra on after her shower. Then he puts her right wrist in the cuff and tightens it, not so tight that it hurt, just tight enough so she couldn't slip out.

Before doing her left wrist, he attacks that spot right under her jaw that always sets her off, and predictably, she lets out a loud cry.

"Babe please," she breathes out, even though she knows it won't do anything.

"Patience, love," he says grinning as he puts the cuff on her other wrist. Satisfied she can't move, he kisses her again, and she sighs into his mouth. She is so wet, and he hasn't even begun his delicious torture of her. She knows she won't last long when he _finally_ touches her, and she prays he doesn't take too long to do it. He straddles her, and she's grateful he didn't bind her legs so that she can move her hips against him. God, it feels _so good_ to have some stimulation on her lower half. If she tried, she could come from this easily, but she knows it wouldn't be half as good as if she lets him continue.

But then he's tugging at her nipples, firm pressure that makes everything heat up even more. She groans, and decides maybe she doesn't care because she is so on edge, has been all day, and he knows what this does to her.

Robin is smiling down at her as he fondles her breasts, flicking her nipples in between his talented fingers. She knows he loves the noises she makes, loves when she is like this, desperate, pent up, needy, and entirely at his mercy. He shuffles down her body, kissing her chest. He takes her left nipple in his mouth, and it feels so good she wants to cry. She needs him to move on because she is aching for him, turned on almost to the point of pain, and he has to know that, he knows her body better than anyone.

He kisses down her stomach, then palms her ass before sliding off the little shorts she was wearing. He grabs it again, and tells her something about her having a great ass, but she's too distracted by his hand running down her hip to her inner thigh, avoiding where she wants him the most.

"Rob—in," she gasps when he does it again.

"Problem?" he asks innocently, as he rubs her inner thighs, causing her to squirm.

"Babe please, oh god, I need—" he cuts her off by circling one finger on her clit over her panties, rubbing her in the tight spirals she likes, and _yes finally_, this is what she needs. His action is rewarded with a loud cry and a jerk of her hips. God she is so fucking close.

"Oh god," she cries out, and he stops. Fuck, she's going to kill him. The noise she lets out is whiny as her eyes plead with him to continue.

He slowly takes off her panties, running his hands down her legs before throwing them toward the hamper. And she is so criminally turned on even that is torturous. She needs to come and soon.

"Robin, please, I can't take anymore, please I need you to touch me."

She is throbbing, aching with need. She needs him to stop torturing her, will do anything for him to touch her. She lets out a frustrated sigh when he tells her he is touching her, so she switches tactics.

"God, babe, I want you inside me. Please, I need you so bad. I wanted you all day, and now I'm soaked, and it's because of you, feel what you do to me." His groan in response is exactly what she wanted. She prays that it has its intended effect and he will finally touch her properly because she is dying.

He kisses up her thighs and gives her clit gentle lick that makes her gasp far too loudly, but she is that on edge. And god, if he stops again, she really will kill him.

But finally, he doesn't stop. He slips two fingers into her and sucks at her clit, and that's it, that's all she needs. She is flying, crying out loud enough the neighbours can probably hear, but she doesn't care because this feels fucking fantastic. She is catapulting toward the edge. Then he switches to those fast licks she loves, and she's gone, falling over the edge with a loud scream, pulsing around his fingers as the waves of pleasure consume her, and her hips buck involuntarily.

When she comes down, she is shaking from the intensity of her orgasm. Aftershocks still ripping through her, as he removes the binds and she shakes out her arms. It's then that she realizes he is almost completely clothed, (except for his jeans when did those come off?) and that needs to change. She pulls him down into a kiss full of tongue and promise, as she unbuttons his shirt. She pulls it off his shoulders, letting it fall onto the floor. She grabs his bicep and squeezes like she does when he's on top of her, and she's so so close. He groans at the action and good, this is payback for all of his teasing. Except hers won't be half as bad, because that groan sent warmth to her lower belly and she wants him again, or still. She pulls off his undershirt, admiring his toned stomach, while running her hands down his abs to his boxers. She grasps at his erection, palming him over his boxers, pleased at the gasp he lets out.

She makes quick work of his boxers. Then they are both naked, and she nudges for him to roll over so she can get on top of him. But he doesn't instead commanding, "Grab a pillow and lie down on your stomach, darling."

That sends her senses into overdrive, she gets off quick in this position, and she knows this time will be no exception. She does as he says, propping her hips up but bringing her chest and face down to the mattress. God, she cannot wait for him to be inside her, gripping her hips as he drives into her fast and deep—that image alone is enough to get her halfway there. She can't help but clench as he grips her hips, preparing to enter her.

They both moan when he finally does. He sets a brisk pace (thank god) that has her racing toward the edge again. He's hitting just the right spot, the angle is perfect, each thrust making the heat in her lower half grow. She is crying out with every thrust getting closer and closer.

"Oh god, babe," he says in her ear, bending down to plant kisses on her neck. "You feel so fucking good, so wet and snug," then more desperately, "god, I'm going to come soon. Fuck, love, rub your clit for me. Please, I need to feel you come for me."

She shivers at his words, she is so close. She squeezes her legs closer together, making her even tighter and him feel even better, and it's almost enough. She rubs her fingers over her clit hard, knowing this is not the time to draw it out. That's it, that's what she needs. Every thrust, coupled with the pressure on her clit is phenomenal. It's all it takes to send her over the edge again. He thrusts through it, allowing her to bask in the pleasure he is giving her. Her hand falls away from her clit, oversensitive as he lets go, showering her with broken compliments while he spills inside her.

They lay together in comfortable silence for a couple moments, both recovering, before she says, "I really missed you." From the look in his eyes, she knows that he understands she's not talking about the mind-blowing sex, though she missed that too.

He sighs before telling her, "I know I've been distant babe and I'm sorry, I just… my mom hasn't been doing well, and it has had me a bit distracted."

Now she feels terrible for all of her, albeit lame, attempts to seduce him. She should have been supporting him, but she didn't know, so she asks, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to accept it, and well, telling you that makes it real. I just couldn't handle that yet, didn't want to handle it yet."

She loves him so much, and she wishes she could take this pain away, can't imagine what it's like to have your mom slowly forget you as Alzheimer's takes over. She says the only thing she can. "Babe, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, she's doing better now and got cleared to come to graduation next week. Her doctor wasn't sure at first, but she still has some memories of me, knows enough to know I'm her son, so he cleared her."

"Well that's good," and even though she really wants to meet Robin's mom, she says, "and we can change the dinner plans, meeting new people is probably not a good idea."

"No!" he says, taking her aback with the force of his answer. "That's part of why I was so upset. I want you to meet my mom, while it still means something, I couldn't bear thinking that I waited too long and I couldn't introduce you two."

She feels her eyes welling up at how sweet that is, and because she doesn't know how to respond, she kisses him and tells him that she loves him.

* * *

Graduation comes faster than she expected. She can't believe she is graduating law school, and hopefully at the top of her class. She worked her ass off while Mary Margaret was more focused on planning her wedding. Regina will be pissed if she again takes the gold, all internally, of course, a gracious loser even though Mary Margaret doesn't deserve it. They have been in competition for a long time, attending the same private school, law school and working at the same firm. Mary Margaret's stupid eidetic memory has bested her more times than she would like to admit.

She's sitting in a chair having her hair done, making small talk with the hairstylist, trying not to think about her mother's reaction if she doesn't get the medal. If Regina had her way, Cora wouldn't even be here, but Zelena is graduating too, and had begged Regina to ask Cora, knowing full well she would only come if Regina asked. Begrudgingly, Regina had invited her mother, and though she blames Zelena for it, she knows she couldn't have only invited her father without her mother throwing a fit anyway.

But still, she will curse Zelena every time Cora makes this day harder on her. She knows it's not fair but whatever, Zelena has held far dumber grudges against Regina in the past, so she can take some misdirected rage for a day.

She greets her mother somewhat stiffly and is relieved when Cora doesn't say anything about her hair or her dress. She had her hair and makeup done professionally for this reason, and she's glad it paid off. Zelena didn't have that luxury, not having Cora's financial support through school, so she gets some sharp comments about her hair and makeup. Regina realizes she should have paid for Zelena to get it done, but it's too late now.

The thing is Zelena looks great, she spent time on her hair, blowing it out straight and the re-curling it because she knows that's Cora's preferred style. Her makeup is subtle, but working with the tight black scoop neck dress she's wearing. The dress is more modest than Zelena would normally wear with elbow-length sleeves and knee-length skirt, which is for Cora's benefit, but she's paired it with some green heels that show off her personality. Regina chuckles to herself when she realizes that once they are gowned, the green heels are the only thing that will show anyway.

Cora compliments Regina on her dress, and to say she is surprised is an understatement. Her dress is a bit more risqué than Zelena's, a floral print with thin straps, that shows an ample amount of cleavage.

"Though the neckline leaves much to be desired. Honestly, Regina, your boss is going to be here, you should have covered up more."

Oh and there's the mother she's used to, "Mother we have to wear gowns and besides this dress is tasteful."

The look Cora gives her tells Regina she doesn't buy it, but then Cora chooses to complain about the heat instead. It's ironic really, her mother telling her to wear more clothing, and in the same breath complaining about the heat, but it's classic Cora Mills.

Regina is glad when Robin comes over, and she is able to step away from their awkward family scene for a moment. Cora is not happy when he drags her away to meet his family. Regina however, hopes to avoid her mother for as long as possible. She meets Robin's grandparents first, and they explain his dad took his mom for a walk to clear her head because the crowd was overwhelming. His grandmother insists on taking a bunch of pictures of them. They then get someone take a picture of the four of them, and it's nice. His grandparents are so sweet, and Regina dreads when they meet her mother at dinner.

Then Robin's dad comes back with his mom. She looks a bit frightened and Regina worries about later, the dinner with both their families Robin had planned. She hopes it won't be too overwhelming for Margaret, but Robin had insisted on the dinner, and he knows far more about her condition than Regina does.

Robin speaks to her softly, then they approach Regina, and she tries to hide her nerves. She knows Robin worships his mother and values her opinion, so she hopes she doesn't screw it up.

"Mom, this is Regina, you remember we've talked about her, she's the love of my life."

Regina can't help but smile at that. She laughs heartily at Margaret's, "Of course I know who she is, she's all you bloody talk about."

Then Margaret surprises her, grabbing in her in a big hug and welcoming her to the family. It's unexpected but so nice. Regina is ecstatic that Margaret is having a good day because it means so much to Robin.

The lead up to the ceremony is a bit of a blur, she gets pictures with Zelena, Katherine and Mal backstage. Mary Margaret surprises her by asking for a photo. David makes an excellent valedictorian speech that doesn't go on for too long, sadly the same cannot be said for their honorary doctorate recipient Anna Arrendale who goes on and on. When that's over, it's time for the awards and Regina knows she is getting some award, because she got a special call card, but she refuses to get her hopes up. When she lines up for the awards, it's her, Mary Margaret and Merlin Cameron. She waits anxiously as they call Merlin as the bronze, which is expected. Then they call Mary Margaret as the silver, and she looks over at Robin locking eyes with him as they announce Regina Mills graduating top of the class. She couldn't tell you what happened for the rest of the ceremony because she's in a bit of a haze after finally besting Mary Margaret. The feeling of all of her efforts paying off is incredible, and she wants to live in this moment, doesn't see how this day could get any better.

It does when they are at dinner. Her mother is thankfully on her best behaviour, and it's a lovely meal with the two families. After they eat Robin stands up, and Regina gives him a 'what are you doing?' look before he starts talking.

"First off I'd like to thank you all for coming, it means a lot to us to have both of our families here. I'd like to make a toast to Regina, who because of hard work and dedication graduated top our class."

She blushes as they all cheers to that, but Robin still doesn't sit down.

He turns to look at her. "Regina I knew you were something special that first day we met. And I know we had our differences and obstacles, but I'm so happy I got to spend law school with you as my friend and partner."

Regina is smiling like an idiot over that wiling herself not to tear up. Even he sounds choked up as he continues, "I'm grateful every day to have you in my life, for having gotten to know you and to love you. You have taught me so many things. I'm excited about the future, and Regina, you are my future. So I'm hoping with all my heart that you agree to marry me."

Regina's heart stops and she can't breathe, can't help the tears that fall as he makes his impassioned speech then drops to one knee holding out a ring. She barely manages to get the yes out through her tears, but he knows her well enough to understand it and places the ring on her left hand while the restaurant and their families cheer.

Their lips meet, and she pours her every emotion into the kiss, not caring that her mother is surely disapproving of this public display of affection.

She had thought this day couldn't get any better, but this, getting engaged to Robin, no award could ever top that feeling. And she doesn't think she's ever felt quite this happy in her entire life.


	2. Inked

**Prompts: DrunkOQ get matching tattoos**

**Law Students Robin and Regina get tattoos (they each pick one for each other) after getting drunk together or in the spur of the moment - later Regina begins to regret it because of Cora.**

It's 1:34 pm on a Tuesday of their last week off before they start articling, when the bar exam results come out. Regina gets hers open first, sees the pass and pass, and sighs with relief before turning to Robin. He smiles at her, says incredulously, "I passed both."

She doesn't squeal her, "Ah, I knew you would," but it's definitely higher pitched than her usual.

They hug tightly then kiss and kiss as the realization they never have to take either of the tests again sinks in. They only have one more hurdle to get over, and it's the easiest one survive ten months as an articling student, then they will be licensed lawyers.

They are naked by 1:45, celebrating their accomplishment on the kitchen floor of their new apartment. By three, they are drunk, taking advantage of the fact they have no responsibilities for the next five days.

It's when she's opening the third bottle of wine, her engagement ring clanking against the glass, that she has a thought she can't help but voice. "Why do only women get marked?"

Robin looks at her quizzically, brow furrowed as he tries to decipher what she means. She's pulling the cork out of the bottle when he asks, "Marked how?"

She refills his glass as she answers, "The ring," then giggles when she realizes she just mixed two different red wines, they are the same varietal at least, so hopefully it won't be gross.

She fills her empty glass (it's what had prompted her to open another bottle) while he says, "You mean like why do you get a ring, and I don't?"

She nods, but then her brain catches up a few seconds later. "Well you get one eventually, but I mean, I have an engagement ring that, in theory, tells interested suitors," —Robin snickers at her phrasing, and she shoots him a glare— "to back off. There's nothing to get the ladies to back off."

"Ah, yes, the hoards of women that throw themselves at my feet. Whatever shall we do?"

She whacks his arm playfully as she narrows her eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

He nods, "I do, and it's not exactly equitable I'll admit, but I don't know how to remedy it."

Neither does she, so the subject changes, but it stays in the back of her mind. They are almost through the third bottle, watching the episode of _Friends_ where Rachel gets a tattoo when Robin remarks, "You know I always wanted a tattoo, actually had an appointment and everything. I was going to get this lion's crest thing, but I backed out at the last minute."

She laughs, "So, you were Phoebe?"

"Sort of, I didn't even get a little dot though. I saw all the equipment and thought 'you know what? I don't want the crest this badly'. I apologized, gave him twenty dollars for wasting his time and left."

"You chickened out, wow, I did not see that coming."

"Hey, now."

She laughs. She knows she hasn't seriously offended him, but still reassures, "I just mean you are normally a risk-taker, so it's surprising to me."

"I'm not a risk-taker," he insists, his eyes silently challenging her to call him out, which she does.

"Oh, please. You said you want to go skydiving to celebrate getting called to the bar and climb Everest someday. Also, whose idea was it to fuck in a classroom? In the law library? That club bathroom? The dean's office—"

"We didn't actually do that one," he points out as if she wasn't aware.

"I know, the point is you wanted to."

He's smirking as he tells her, "Still do… Maybe the ten-year reunion."

She rolls her eyes, "Keep dreaming, babe."

"Oh, I will," he says, winking at her. "I should get a tattoo, though. I still want one, perhaps not the lion crest, something a bit more subtle."

"What are you thinking?"

He chews his lip, his hand coming up to rest on his face, "I'm not sure honestly."

That's how they end up looking at tattoo designs while drunk, which in retrospect probably wasn't the best idea.

He decides he wants something to symbolize her, circling back to their conversation from earlier, something soft and subtle to symbolize their engagement.

She tells him point blank there will be no sex for him if he gets her name on him, and he laughs. He assures her he wasn't thinking of anything like that, then teases her that she would never be able to hold out even if he did.

They taunt and tease each other as they look at tattoos, and before she knows it, he's picked out a crest with an intricate crown in the centre. The crown being for Regina is subtle enough she doesn't mind it. It's not her thing at all, but it's his tattoo, and if that's what he wants that's fine.

The tattoo idea, the permanence of it is yet another sign he's in it for the long haul, that he thinks this is for real and forever. It's the kind of thing that used to scare her but now makes her so happy. She cannot imagine her life without Robin, can't believe she ever fought this, but she was dumb, in denial and oblivious to how he felt. Sometimes she can't help but marvel over what a miracle it is they ended up happy after all the stupid things she did when they first got together to protect herself.

Robin decides for the hell of it to Google tattoo places and there is one just up the street from them. He decides to call them to see if they have any openings. They were both thinking something later in the week, but when they get told it's walk in only they have more than enough liquor in their systems to think that's a great idea.

In honour of Robin's tattoo they take two tequila shots on their way out, it's liquid courage for him, and she's just showing support with hers. That moment, grimacing at the awful taste of tequila, is the last thing Regina remembers from that night.

She wakes up pretty hungover, but it could be a lot worse, has been a lot worse before. She thinks for a second about the morning after the Solicitor's exam, and her stomach pitches a bit just from the memory. It's not an occasion she ever wants to repeat.

She shuffles to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on any lights, grasping blindly for the Aspirin bottle in the medicine cabinet to take the edge off of her headache, so she can get a few more hours of sleep. Except she's not fully awake, so she ends up dropping the bottle, right after she opened the cap of course, causing pills to scatter across the bathroom floor.

She curses loudly and thinks it's a good thing Robin is a heavy sleeper, because that level of noise would have woken her up in a heartbeat.

She flips on the light to clean up her mess, it's then that she catches sight of the bandage on her arm. She freezes, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment and reopening them. The bandage is still there, wasn't a hallucination. Oh, god! What the hell did she do?

She has a sneaking suspicion, why else would her arm be bandaged if not because she too decided to get a tattoo? But good lord she hopes she's wrong, has no idea what her drunken self would have picked out, but is sure it won't be pretty.

Fuck, her mother is going to kill her. Cora has strong opinions about many, many things, but her hatred of tattoos is next level, even for her.

Regina's breathing picks up as she imagines her mother's reaction, imagines her learning Regina did this while drunk and oh, god, yeah, that needs to never come to light. She's just going to have to get this thing removed before she sees her mother in two weeks. That's doable, right?

She's not going to panic, not now, it's fixable. She can deal with this; it's totally fine.

Her rising anxiety seems to amp up the pain in her temples, so she goes back to her initial task, collecting and disposing of the Advil that hit the floor. When she's finished, she takes two from the bottle and swallows them.

She heads back to the bedroom with tension spooled in her gut. This is not good. Maybe she will wake up and this will just be a bad dream (god, she wishes). It's too early. She's too hungover to deal with it, so she snuggles back up into Robin's chest and lets the calm cadence of his breathing settle her down until she drifts back off to sleep.

It's still there when she wakes up. She wants to take off the bandage, see what lies underneath but she forces herself to wait. She pulls up tattoo aftercare on her phone and reads the first four Google results. They all say she can take off the bandage (and probably should have earlier but oh well, can't fix that now). She finds a bag in the corner of their room on her way to wash her tattoo, containing lotion and unscented soap. At least their drunk asses did _something_ right.

She washes her hands, which are shaking, god, she's so nervous. It's ridiculous, because it's not like not knowing will change whatever monstrosity she branded herself with, but still, she has to take a minute to breathe and tell herself it will be okay before she removes it.

She breathes a huge sigh of relief when she uncovers a small feather. It's cute, something she actually likes. There is no disaster, she's keeping this. The only thing she would change if she could do it over would be to put it somewhere else, somewhere easier to cover so she could just never show her mother and never deal with her wrath.

Her mother is going to have a conniption fit, there's no doubt of that. She can already picture it—her mother grasping her wrist harshly, staring down at the delicate feather and then exploding. It will be a one, maybe even two, hour lecture that will inevitably end at an impasse when her mother insists she has to remove it at once and Regina refuses.

Her mother is already pissed that she agreed to marry Robin. He's going to be a lawyer just like her, but no, that's apparently not good enough. Her mother wanted her to marry someone with "better status," which Regina knew meant more money. Her mother at least had the good sense to keep her misgivings to herself when Robin proposed, because Regina may have committed matricide if her mother had ruined that night for her.

Instead, she got to hear all about it over lunch the next day. She hadn't won herself any points by showing up late—she and Robin had had a rendezvous in their bed, then in the shower, then pressed up against the front door when she went to leave. She tuned most of it out, not even Cora Mills could get her down that day, though she put in a valiant effort.

She hasn't seen her mother since then, she and Robin went to England for two weeks after the bar, staying with his family, and had come back and moved into their apartment. Though he'd been living with her at her place for two and a half months, it was still her place—this is the first place that's theirs. Of course, her mother hates it, wanted them to live in a huge, unaffordable place, a building she could brag about her daughter living in. You would think they live in a hovel and not in a very nice apartment downtown close to both of their workplaces.

So her mother is mad about that too, is mad about everything Regina's doing now that she refuses the string attached to financial support from her parents. In the grand scheme of how she's failing as a daughter, this tattoo might not outweigh how she's throwing her life away.

She'll find out, eventually. Regina can't hide her tattoo forever, but she has no plans to see her mother in the near future, so that's future Regina's problem.

She makes herself an espresso, and as if on cue, Robin walks out just as she's finishing up. She offers the shot to him, but he shakes his head. They switch places, and he makes himself a latte as she asks him if he remembers how she ended up with a tattoo.

He looks confused, so she holds out her wrist. His eyes widen as he looks down at her arm, remarking, "I don't—Ohhh, wait… you decided a crown was cringey and you didn't want it to be a tattoo for you. That it should be something I wanted _for me_."

That makes sense she does think that's cringey, never would have been on board with the crown sober—not that he needs her permission, it's his body.

Robin goes on, "So we went through the book and there was a similar lion crest to the one I almost got. I was looking at something else but you said I should get the lion instead," He pauses to sip at his drink. When he's done sipping, she gestures for him to go on because she does not remember this at all. "Then I jokingly said something like well then I get to pick yours. I thought you would roll your eyes or make a sarcastic comment, but you said okay. I thought maybe it was a joke, but we found that feather and... yeah."

"I can't believe they let us get tattoos when we were _that _impaired."

He laughs, "The girl didn't want to actually, um, but then you gave her fifty dollars, told her we were lawyers, and offered to draw up a legally binding waiver of all of our rights."

"Wouldn't we have signed a waiver to get the tattoos?"

"Yes, but you started telling the girl about all the ways that waiver wasn't enforceable."

She shakes her head, "Wow, I'm surprised I was able to read it given I remember nothing."

"I don't know that you actually said anything legit, but you were at least coherent and sounded convincing, so the girl was impressed. I think she also decided you must not have been as drunk as she initially thought, which was not the truth but whatever."

She snickers, well whatever works, right? She doesn't like that she can't remember it, but it doesn't appear that she did anything embarrassing, so that's good.

"Go wash yours, the stuff is in the bathroom. I want to see it," she requests as she opens the fridge to find them something to eat.

He presses a quick kiss to her cheek she wasn't expecting and tells her, "Yes, Ma'am."

She decides on fried eggs and toast, and is nearly done with breakfast when Robin emerges from the bathroom.

She shuts the burner off while she turns to look at Robin's tattoo. It's nice, a small, all black crest with a lion in the centre. It looks good, much better than she was picturing when they were talking about it. She had expected something a bit bigger, but this is better.

Still, she snickers as she realizes how cliché they were, getting drunk and getting tattoos. They are so lucky it wasn't a disaster.

All of their friends get a good laugh out of the story of their tattoos. For a while, any time they drink with John or Mal they get made fun of, asked if this time they are going to elope, get married Vegas-style, and other drunken clichés. They laugh it off because it was rather stupid, but it worked out alright.

Her mother blows a gasket as expected—without knowing the whole story. The only silver lining is that Regina's tattoo is a bigger disappointment than her marrying Robin (well, until Cora sees his tattoo anyway). But Regina loves her feather tattoo, so she ignores her mother.

Though she can't remember how it happened, every time she looks at her feather tattoo she thinks of that night how happy and high on life they were and it makes her smile.


	3. The Inconsiderate Roommate

**For the prompts: WLL - John's pov: he finds all the scattered clothes and hears the noises from Robin's room when he gets home after the summer break when OQ first got back together in bed & 133. Little John POV**

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John lost Robin at some point during the night, had gone off with Killian to play a round of beer pong and when he came back, Robin was nowhere to be seen. He figured he'd find him at some point as the crowd dwindled down, but now he's realizing Robin must have gone home early.

The last time he saw Robin, he was in an intense conversation with Regina, and John hopes that wasn't the reason Robin bowed out early. He doesn't know what those two are doing. She was a right idiot for breaking his heart, but so was Robin for not telling her how he felt.

The whole thing seems rather simple to him since they are so obviously still in love with each other, but he does understand why Robin didn't take her back right away. He understands why Robin is having trouble forgiving her.

He's having his own trouble forgiving her for all the pain she caused his friend over the summer. Robin didn't talk much about her, but John could see the pain, the hurt, and it killed him.

His friend has been through so much, and it's taken its toll on him. John does what he can to alleviate his burdens, but there is only so much he can do.

Maybe he'll order them breakfast in the morning, if he can manage to rouse himself before Robin eats. He wants to do something for Robin—he hates to see him suffering, and he wants to give Robin space to talk about it if he wants.

It's on his walk home that it occurs to him that Robin might not be home at all. That perhaps he didn't leave because he was upset, but left with Regina.

The more he thinks about it, the more likely he thinks that is. Robin almost never came home on party nights last year, ending up at Regina's instead. Alcohol may be just what they needed to put all of the shit aside and start over.

He'll have to look and see whether Robin is at their apartment, and if he isn't, John is going to want details. He's not normally one to be so nosy, but after all of the ridiculousness last year, he's invested in the outcome—he wants to see them end up together.

He knows that Regina fucked up, badly, but he also knows that he's never seen Robin happier than he was with her. That's why he's still rooting for them, even though he's pissed at Regina. Robin is the one who has much more to forgive, and if he does then John will, because he trusts his friend and his judgment.

Except when it comes to pizza, and man, he should have ordered one. He's kind of hungry but far too lazy to make something. He's getting tired, is very glad it's only two more minutes before he walks into the lobby of their building—he cannot wait to flop into his bed and go to sleep.

The elevator takes forever to come, something he doesn't understand, considering he doubts many people are up at this hour, but one is out of service, leaving just this one to service the whole building.

Yes, he could take the stairs, it probably would have taken less time, but he's lazy. He walked home instead of cabbing, so that's his exercise for the night.

John manages to drop his keys as he approaches the door of his apartment, groaning as he bends to retrieve them. He gets them in the door okay but turns them the wrong way at first because this stupid lock is backwards.

He hears the click of the lock and sighs, Robin must be home because it wasn't locked before, John just locked it accidentally. Stupid fucking backward door.

While he missed the freedom of this apartment, while he was home for the summer, he didn't miss what a piece of crap it is. Between the faulty elevators, the backwards lock, and their screen door that finally fell off its hinges, it's not ideal, but it's theirs, and he and Robin have made the best of it. John knows once he gets used to it again he won't notice any of these things, but it's going to take a bit of time.

He steps in and throws his keys into his pocket, locking the door behind him as he steps on something that must have fallen off of the coat rack.

He reaches blindly for the light, managing to flick it on at the same time he hears, "Oh _god_, don't stop," from Robin's room, and jesus fucking christ.

He's wide awake now.

And uncomfortable.

And pissed.

And embarrassed.

And just too many things.

Why did they even come here? She has a whole damn apartment to herself.

It wouldn't be so bad if they weren't being so goddamn loud, but apparently a drunk Regina is a vocal one because he hears her practically scream, and good lord.

On the one hand, good on Robin, his mate clearly has some skills if he's making prim and proper Regina Mills sound like that, but he does _not _want to hear it.

It's made worse when he looks down at what he's stepping on, and it's her fucking dress. The idiots couldn't even make it to Robin's room.

John thanks god he didn't come home any sooner, because as he kicks her dress away, he spies her thong on the floor, Robin's boxers along with them, and he knows what he could have walked in on. It's bad enough he's getting the soundtrack, he doesn't need the visual as well.

What is it with these two and having sex in the public areas of the apartment? It's not like he hasn't done it, but for god's sake, hide the evidence. And also, you don't do it when your roommate is coming home. He would have thought they learned that after the strip tease incident, but apparently not. No one was the wiser when he fucked Kathryn on the kitchen counter, because he did it when Robin wasn't home. It would be nice if he was shown the same courtesy, but his roommate has failed him again.

He goes to get himself a glass of water, catches a moan he thinks might have been Robin's and shudders—if he never hears that sound again, it will be too soon.

On his way to the kitchen he has to step over Robin's shirt, which somehow made it half-way to the living room. He's happy for them, he is, but god, he does _not _need to see this, does not need to hear this.

It gets worse as he takes his glass of water toward his room, managing to catch, "Oh god, Robin, fuck me," and these gutteral groans that spill out, which must be from Robin doing as asked.

"Oh god, yes, _yes fuck_," follows him into his room, and he is going to kill Robin in the morning, that's what he's decided.

He wouldn't be like this if she didn't live alone, but _she lives alone!_ For fuck's sake go there.

He sticks in his earplugs, puts on some white noise and his fan and prays all that drowns them out.

It doesn't though, not quite, he hears a few more pleasured screams, and he groans every time. He wants nothing more than to yell out, "We get it, it's good," but Robin actually might murder him, and he doesn't want to fuck up what's clearly some amazing sex.

Robin is so lucky that he is a good friend.

They'll be done soon, they have to be, they can't go on like this forever, right?

And what the fuck is Robin on right now to keep this up?

At some point John must fall asleep, because he wakes up to silence, and... is that coffee?

He and Robin hit up the thrift stores the other day in an effort to spruce the place up, but only ended up with a couple things, including a coffee maker that's been a game changer.

He takes his headphones out, turns off his fan and plugs in his dead phone that he apparently didn't charge last night.

He's just about to exit his room when he hears them.

Not going at it again, thank god, he'd interrupt this time, his courtesy all spent—but they are talking and it sounds serious.

He catches Regina yelling, "Then what the hell _did_ you mean?" before it goes quiet, and oh shit.

He can't go out _now_.

So he sits and waits, thinks he hears Robin talking, but can't make out the words.

He abandons his door and leans onto the outside wall of his room, the one that connects with the living room to see if they are done.

He can hear more clearly now, shouldn't be eavesdropping, but they've trapped him in his room, and he doesn't want to stay trapped in here if he doesn't have to.

The conversation starts to get intense, personal, and he really should not be listening, so he flops back onto his bed and waits them out.

He's ansty to know what's happening, but he waits until he hears the door swing open and shut before he exits his room.

The trail of clothing is now gone, but he doesn't say a word to Robin until he takes the first sip of his coffee.

Then he asks, "Did you manage to find your clothes?" watching as Robin's face goes red.


	4. The Beginning of the End

**Win, Lose, or Law - Five years after law school**

"You're home early," Robin remarks as his wife walks in the door of their condo. True as it is, it's a ridiculous statement, considering it's seven thirty pm and she leaves each morning at six forty-five.

"Yeah, I feel like shit," Regina says as she takes off her coat, then makes her way toward the living room. She doesn't look tired, not at all, but he had seen the dark circles under her eyes this morning before she put on her face and knows she hasn't been sleeping well.

Regina sighs as she plops herself down on the couch beside him, sinking into the cushions. "I'm _so tired_. I didn't want to have too much coffee because I'm pretty sure that's why I didn't sleep last night, but then my eyes were burning and all I could think about was taking a nap. This whatever I have is really kicking my ass. I have so much to do, but I just couldn't anymore."

"Perhaps this is your body's way of telling you to take a break," he suggests as he leans in to feel her forehead, relieved when it's not hot. His other arm settles around her shoulders, pulling her in closer.

"If it is, I'd like to have a talk with it because now is not the time. I don't have time for a break, I need to be on my A game."

She'll never agree to it but still he urges, "Take a sick day tomorrow."

"Robin, I _can't_. And don't tell me I'm being difficult. This week is Hell and I just have to get through it. I'll see about taking a half day or something on Monday but I can't this week."

He wants to tell her she doesn't need to be so defensive, but they've had this fight before, many times, and she's always short tempered when she doesn't sleep—he'd rather not poke the bear.

So he switches tracks, "I'm just trying to look after you, that's all. But how can I help?"

She shrugs, leaning more into him as he offers, "A glass of wine, maybe? I can make you dinner, or if you're sore, I could give you a massage."

"Mm, all of that sounds nice," she says, turning her back to him in a clear invitation to start. He will in a second, but first he rises from the couch goes into the kitchen pours them both a glass of red and settles back on the couch beside her.

She smiles over her shoulder at him, taking a quick sip then setting her glass onto the coffee table. She shrugs her shoulders at him, a clear invitation and he reaches for her neck, finds it hard as rock like usual. She sighs as he digs his thumb in, then hisses but urges him to continue.

He spends several minutes loosening her traps as she tells him about her day. When he's finished up the neck massage, he asks, "Anywhere else hurting?"

"Well, yes but…"

"But what?"

She twists her body back to a normal seated position, her eyes now on his again. "It's not exactly a place suited for massage."

He raises his brows, and counters, "Massage feels good most places."

She breathes out a little laugh and admits, "True. _But _it's my boobs."

He waggles his brows at her. "I mean, I'm not seeing a problem. I'm always happy to massage the girls."

She reaches for her glass as she remarks, "Oh, I'm sure you are, but that honestly sounds like torture right now." Then she winks, or tries to, "and not the kind I enjoy."

He laughs. "Some other time then."

She nods and smiles. "I'll hold you to that."

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips that has her grin growing. God, she's so beautiful. But she is tired, worn out, likely burnt out, and he wants to do whatever he can to help her feel better. Starting with dinner. He hadn't made her anything because she doesn't normally come home in time for dinner, eats at the office or on her way home.

Her eyes widen and she shoots up, trading her glass for her phone. "Shit," is all she says as she scrolls frantically, looking for… something.

"What did you forget, my love?" He's praying it's not a work thing, the last thing she needs is to go back to the office now.

She's not paying attention to him, is looking down at her phone in shock before she curses, "Oh, fuck."

Now he's concerned, "Regina, love, _what_ is wrong?"

He places a hand on her arm and she startles, looking up at him with frantic eyes. "I need… Oh god, I… Do you remember how my doctor retired six months ago?"

He nods and she goes on, "We've been so busy at work, and it totally slipped my mind. I always had that recurring appointment every three months with Dr. Brown's office…"

He's not following, is obviously missing something, what does going to the doctor have to do with any—

His jaw drops as it clicks. "You missed your birth control… Are, are you _pregnant_?"

She swallows hard, and he can see that her mind is racing. "I think I might be. Can you go run to the store? Now, please, I _have_ to know."

"Of course, love. Should I… do you need anything else?"

His own mind is racing a mile a minute, she's been sluggish the last week and a half and super irritable, which he'd attributed to the lack of sleep, but what if it's something more?

They could be having a baby.

Regina shakes her head no in response to his question and he jumps up off the couch, heading toward the door. He needs to go, they have to know, but as soon as he's up, he turns back on his heel in a movement he's sure is comical so he can plant a kiss on her cheek.

He tells her, "I'll be right back," then he races out the door, almost forgetting to grab his coat, doing a double take as the door shuts when he doesn't feel his wallet in his pocket.

God, he's a mess, it's in his other pocket but he's forgotten his keys, oh wait no, there they are. He double checks that he has everything he needs as he waits for the elevator.

He's back in the building in under ten minutes, had raced to the Shoppers Drug Mart across the street, paused momentarily when looking at all the different kinds of pregnancy tests before grabbing a three pack of the First Response, solely because he's seen their commercial before.

Regina's still sitting on the couch in that same spot when he gets back, but she's been up. Her glass of wine is gone, there's an empty water glass beside her and a bag of sugar snap peas in hand, which are not a dinner. She needs to eat more, especially if she's eating for two.

"What do you want for dinner?" he asks her as he pases her the bag.

"Not yet. I have to… I need to know," she says ripping open the box and quickly reading the instructions.

Thank god for that, he's just as antsy to know. He's already thinking about an adorable baby girl, getting way too far ahead of himself.

He'd wanted to try to start a family right after they got married, but Regina said she needed to make it to five years before that would happen. They'd tabelled it until next year but if nature has other plans, he'll be thrilled.

Maybe this will finally get her to leave Blanchard Partners. She's been waiting for the five year mark to make that exit too, and he knows why, though he's fairly certain she could go anywhere she wanted now that she doesn't need to make it to that five year mark to be a star candidate. Then she could leave behind the sexual harassment the firm refuses to do anything about.

He's really getting ahead of himself, he should not be thinking all these things when it's not confirmed yet.

But god, a baby, their baby.

She rushes to the bathroom, and he gives her her privacy so she can pee on the stick in peace. He wonders for a second how that even works, but then she's calling him in, telling him they'll know in a minute.

She has a suspicion, but in sixty short seconds they'll know for sure.

Those sixty seconds seem to take forever to pass. He's in the bathroom with Regina now, holding her close, waiting for the timer on her phone to go off. She set the test face down and Robin longs to pick it up and look, to see if the result is already there. But there's only thirty seconds left so he kisses her head, her hair, reaching a bit to get her neck, her jaw—soft pecks, steady reassurances as they wait.

She's trembling in his arms, and he has no idea what she's thinking. He knows that she wants kids eventually, but as happy as he is from this possibility, he knows it might not be the same for her.

He'll support her no matter what, but if she is pregnant, he really hopes she's happy about it.

It's close enough to that five year mark, and by the time she had the baby they'd be right there.

Ten seconds left. How is there still ten seconds left? He watches as the countdown on her phone moves to nine, eight, seven…

When that timer finally goes off, they both jump even though they were expecting it. They laugh awkwardly, but neither moves.

"I can't… Robin, can you do it? I'm _freaking out_."

He will in a second, but more important than knowing is comforting her, so he hugs her more tightly, "I will. It's going to be okay, love, no matter what it is, we'll get through it. I love you."

She turns in his hold, her eyes coming to meet his as she smiles, and he drops a kiss to her brow as she tells him, "I love you, too. Now check it, _please_."

He's nervous too, feels that prickling heaviness in his chest as he reaches for the stick. His hand starts to tremor, and he wills himself not to drop it, feeling ridiculous.

Then he sees the result and it's like the whole world freezes. He doesn't know how long he stands there, his eyes seeing the two lines, but not registering it. His brain slowly catches up and realizes what that means and _holy shit_.

"You're pregnant," he finally breathes, and Regina gasps, grabbing the stick from his hand staring down at those two lines.

"I'm pregnant."

He nods, trying to keep his own excitement under wraps, not wanting to pressure her or make her feel bad if she's not there with him. But god, this is incredible. "How do you feel, darling?"

"We're having a baby," she breathes incredulously.

"We are."

"We're having a _baby_."

He nods again, repeating himself. "We are."

"This is… wow. I… wow."

He thinks he knows the answer to this but, "Is that a good or a bad wow?"

"Good wow," she assures her eyes still wide, mouth still open. "I'm overwhelmed. As soon as I realized, I just knew, I don't know how to explain it. But knowing and confirming it is _different_."

"But you're happy?"

Her face softens, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I am."

"Thank god," he breathes then picks her up, taking them out of the bathroom so he can spin her around, letting out a whoop of excitement that makes her giggle.

When he sets her down he kisses her, a quick, soft peck that breaks so he can marvel, "We're having a baby."

His eyes are watering and he's smiling so hard his face is starting to hurt, but he can't stop smiling. She's smiling, too, beaming in that way that makes his heart thud. She's so beautiful and she's carrying his baby—this is incredible.

"We are," She breathes, still smiling broadly as she speaks. "We're going to have a baby. We're going to be parents."

"This is amazing. I'm so happy," he tells her before pulling her into his arms and kissing her.

"I am, too. I hadn't thought too much about it, and it's a bit surreal. I don't think I've fully comprehended that there's a tiny human growing inside me, relying on me—Oh god, I've had so much coffee. I just had _wine_. What if? And I don't have a doctor anymore. And I have to—"

He rubs her cheek as he requests, "I'm sure it's all fine. You didn't know and that can't be uncommon." She's still worrying her bottom lip, that happy aura all but gone. "Can we please worry about all that tomorrow? There's plenty of time to stress and research, but tonight I'd like to cuddle with my wife and do whatever she wants to celebrate our baby."

She nods, literally shaking it off as she shrugs her shoulders and flicks her head. She takes a breath, shakes again, and when she looks back at him she's resumed smiling. "We can do that. But first, we need dinner."

That _we_ makes his heart swell because she knows she means her and the baby.

"Indeed you both do, what can I make?"

She ponders it for a second, her lips pursing. "I mean I could really go for some hot wings but…"

"But what? Let's go."

He's already starting toward the door, as she remarks, "Robin, it's late, and do you really want to wait around for me to eat?"

She's so silly sometimes, you'd think it was midnight not just shy of nine the way she's talking. "I do, actually. You're carrying my baby. I'm going to do whatever I can to make you happy."

She groans, but she's following him, smiling as she teases, "You're such a sap."

"Yes." He grabs her coat off of the rack, "but I'm your sap."

She rolls her eyes as he passes her her coat and she takes it from him. "That you are. I still can't believe I married such a romantic."

He waits until he has his coat on so he can turn back to her to say, "You love me."

She smirks, "I do."

"And I love you, now let's go get some hot wings to celebrate your pregnancy."

He's trying to get them back to the celebratory mood, but she keeps making fun of him. "Us? Didn't you already have dinner?"

He nods, "I did, but I could eat a few wings."

"Oh, so all of that _I'd wait around for you_ was bullshit."

It wasn't, but if they are going out he's going to take advantage. And he can't help but point out, "You are the one who said that, not me."

"Whatever." She reaches for the door, "you're buying."

"Yes, ma'am. Anything for you and my baby."

She smiles back at him, then steps out the door and lets it slam in his face. He can hear her laughing on the other side as he says, "Hey!"

At dinner he somehow manages to talk her into calling in sick the next day. She's much more agreeable now after the news of their happy accident, and they spend their night talking excitedly about the future.

He's such a lucky man.


	5. Thwarted Part One

**When Robin and Regina's kid-free night gets cancelled their efforts to get some alone time are thwarted at every turn  
****For OQPromptParty Prompt****159\. Leather** **  
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Robin had sexted her all goddamn day, telling her all the ways he's going to fuck her in explicit detail _all day_ and suffice it to say, she's accomplished next to nothing. Tonight is the night, it's the culmination of what feels like weeks (but has only been one and a half) of anticipation. She's the one who suggested they wait until they had the house to themselves to fuck again, and she doesn't regret it, but she's damn impatient as she finishes up her docketing, trying and failing to keep the image of him screwing her on this desk out of her head. She's finally going to feel him, can cry out as loudly as she wants with no chance of interruption. She loves their children so much, wants to spend as much time with them as she can, but Roland has this knack of waking up screaming every time they start to get hot and heavy, so when Mary Margaret offered to take the kids for the night she wasn't about to say no.

Regina's been looking forward to this for days, right from the moment Mary Margaret asked if they could take Neal for the night when she goes in to have baby girl Nolan, and how she would of course repay the favour by taking the boys this weekend.

Roland hasn't been on an overnight before, and if it were anyone other than Mary Margaret Regina would be hesitant, but Neal was an equally fussy baby, so she knows her friend can handle Roland.

She can't even remember the last time she and Robin had the house to themselves, it was before Roland so at least a year, but likely longer because she would only leave Henry overnight with her father, and only if absolutely necessary.

It's no wonder she's regressed into a horny teenager that can't get her mind out of the gutter. She hasn't even left the office yet and she's already aching for it.

It didn't help that Robin cornered her in the shower that morning, started tugging at her nipples and slid one hand down to rub firmly at her clit. She knew he wouldn't give it to her, not with what they had planned and how she had stupidly spouted the virtues of denial and anticipation, but she had still let out a bereft cry when he stopped just as she was on the edge of orgasm. Then he proceeded to sext her all morning, and it had taken all of her control not to slip into the single-stall washroom and rub one out. It's not something she'd ever considered before, but he riled her up more and more, until she was hornier than she ever remembers being.

Earlier, she texted him her fantasy of him coming to her work, of them sneaking into the elevator and hitting the emergency stop button and unleashing it all, or of him waiting at her car and of them climbing in so she could ride him into oblivion, or of him coming into her office, slamming the door and drawing the shades and taking her quick and rough on the desk.

It's been a long day, and she wants nothing more than for him to sink into her and give her everything she's been craving for the past week and a half. Or god, his tongue, his fingers, anything, everything, she wants it soon, now, _fuck_.

His texts had died off around four, and she doesn't think anything of it as she gets on the subway, figuring he actually had work to do, or that he bowed out early and lost service on his way home, or was busy prepping for all the sex they are about to have.

But when she arrives home the scene is not at all what she expects. Her arousal is still burning hot from her probably poor choice to reread all of his messages on the subway ride over. A state that makes her very uncomfortable when her seven year old flings himself into her arms as he yells, "Mommy, you're home."

She sets down her purse and the dessert she'd brought home, then bends slightly so Henry can give her the broad hug he's reaching for. She looks over at Robin, arching a brow before turning back to her son, "I am, sweetheart, how was your day?"

"Friday is pizza day," Henry tells her as if she wasn't aware of that fact, "I had pizza and it was _so good_. Then Daddy made me nuggets."

"Oh, did he?"

"Yeah, but I hadta eat my broccolis first. Ooh, can we have ice cream, please, Mommy, please?"

In the spirit of a romantic night in, she'd bought chocolate-covered strawberries for her and Robin, and since that doesn't appear to be happening, and her son is definitely in need of more fruit and veggies today, she offers, "How about we have these instead?" opening the box for him so he can see inside.

"Yay! Now?"

"Not yet, sweetheart, Mommy needs to eat first."

"Aw _man_," Henry sighs, an expression he picked up from someone at school last week that's become his new favourite.

As she shrugs off her heels and takes off her coat, Henry prattles on about his day. He tells her how much math sucks, how he got a new book to read, and can they please please read it together tonight?

It's that last one that dashes her hopes of a night alone with her husband. Henry had been so excited about the prospect of sleeping at Mary Margaret's and there's no way he would have forgotten about it. Something must have come up, and Robin already broke the news to him. Damnit, she was really _really _looking forward to a night with her husband. Now they'll have to wait until the kids are in bed, and she'll have to be quiet, which is not her favourite, but she needs the relief.

For now, she needs to keep her mind off of all that, let her arousal simmer out, then flare back up once they can actually do something about it.

She promises Henry she'll read him the story, and he runs off to his room to grab the book to show her. She reminds him not to run in the house and he slows, turning over his shoulder and looking sheepishly back at her.

She just shakes her head, not that Henry sees as he's already halfway up the stairs, taking them carefully now that he's been scolded.

She strolls into the other room where Robin and Roland are sitting, surprised her other son hadn't cried out for her as soon as she walked in the door. But he's preoccupied with his little xylophone she almost killed Mary Margaret for buying, something that actually isn't too loud or obnoxious. Roland only looks up when she bends to say hi and rubs his hair.

Roland's little arms reach out so she scoops him into her arms, holding him tight to her and pressing a kiss into his curls. Just like that, nearly all of her frustration over the change of plans is gone. Baby cuddles really do fix everything. She breathes in his scent, taking comfort in that baby smell she doesn't want him to grow out of.

Regina settles herself on the couch beside her husband and of course as soon as she does, Roland reaches for him. She knows he'll want to come back over to her shortly, so she passes him over.

Roland coos happily, a sound that always puts a smile on her face as Robin tells her, "As you probably already figured out, we're a full house tonight. Mary Margaret got caught up at work, one of her clients is having some crisis and she's going to be there all weekend."

Regina grimaces, she does not miss those days at all. Leaving Blanchard Partners was the best decision she's ever made, and while she knows things have changed now that Leopold's gone, the amount of work and the time that you are expected to put in at a firm like that is not worth the paycheque. She may make half as much at the firm she works at now, but she's in at nine and out at five, works from home once a week, and if anything ever comes with her children they are always accommodating.

Speaking of children, Roland has started to lean toward her and is babbling, "Ma Ma Ma," a clear signal he wants back in her arms.

Robin shakes his head as he passes her their son. Roland's indecisiveness and always wanting what he doesn't have until he has it can be irritating at times, but tonight it's cute.

As is how Henry flops down beside Robin to show them both his book, crawling onto Robin's lap so Regina can see it better.

It's not at all the night she'd planned, but with the whole family cuddled up on the couch, it's a great night. And Robin has this glint in his eye, one she can't look too closely at or she'll start having inappropriate thoughts, that tells her their night is still very much a go, just put on pause until their children are soundly asleep.

She and Robin share the Italian food they'd ordered in, giving pieces to the bottomless pit that is Henry lately and a few to Roland when he starts to feel left out.

Then they share those chocolate-covered strawberries as a family, a flavour combination Roland is not a fan of, his face contorting into this horrified expression that has them all laughing before he spits out his piece.

Thankfully, her husband has the good sense not to try and rile her up some more, knowing how she hates being turned on in front of the children, something they've both agreed feels awkward and creepy. It's unavoidable sometimes, like the time Henry came in while they were in the middle of the act—he'd had a scary dream and wanted to sleep with them—or when Roland's crying interrupts the action.

She's still far too sexually charged for the family night they are having, but she's able to push it aside and stops herself every time her thoughts start to go down the wrong path.

It doesn't help at all that Robin is incredibly sexy as a father. Unfairly, he has only gotten more attractive as they've aged and the rugged look he's adopted since they had Roland makes him look even better. All of that coupled with the pure love he shows their children, the way he holds them, whispers to them, and soothes them, has her _appreciating him _more and more.

She doesn't know what it is about him as a father that's so hot to her, but it's there, and tonight she's more aware of it than ever.

She should not be thinking of his tongue as he bites into a strawberry, should not be thinking of kissing him as he rocks Roland back and forth, and should definitely not be thinking of fucking him as he holds out pajamas for Henry.

She should have taken a cold shower or something, because she is not at all in the right headspace for bedtime, her mind continually flitting to what happens once the kids are in bed instead of focusing on getting them to sleep.

Roland's eyes droop as she's feeding him, and as she places him in his crib, she sends up a silent prayer for him to fall asleep and stay asleep. His eyes stay shut as she slips her arms from underneath him, and she lets out a low sigh of relief before heading off to Henry's room for storytime.

Roland starts to whimper in the middle of Henry's story, and she hopes that this will be one of those times where Roland rolls over and goes back to sleep, but as his cries grow louder, she looks over at Robin, her head tilting toward the wall Henry's room shares with Roland's. Robin nods, ruffling Henry's hair as he tells him, "Goodnight."

Henry isn't happy with that, he wants both Mommy and Daddy to read him his story. For the most part, he's gotten used to having a little brother and having to share his parents' attention, but every now and then the jealousy pops up, and it seems tonight is one of those nights.

Henry starts to sulk, his lower lip jutting out as he sighs. Henry knows better than to whine, outgrew it fairly quickly once she made it clear she wouldn't stand for it, but she can tell he's fighting the impulse, which means he's overtired.

She reads him more of the story, attempting to stop at one point, but heading his plea for just one more chapter, somehow reading another after that before she insists on lights out.

Henry pouts again, but doesn't say anything as she tucks him, giving him a quick kiss before flicking off the light.

She peeks her head into Roland's room, to see what's going on and finds Robin rocking him in the chair.

"He's asleep," Robin whispers to her as she crosses the room. She plants a kiss on both of their foreheads, barely touching Roland's for fear of waking him. "I just want to wait a few more minutes before I put him in the crib, make sure he's really out."

"That's a good plan," she says leaning against the wall, content to watch the two of them cuddle.

"You know what else is a good plan, love…" Robin starts in this low tone that lights her right back up. "Why don't you go to the bedroom, strip the bed, then yourself and wait for me."

"Robin," she hisses, even though she is enjoying it, "not in front of Roland."

"He's asleep."

She rolls her eyes in lieu of a response, then leans down to graze a kiss over Roland's warm cheek.

"See you shortly," Robin says with a smirk, eyeing her body suggestively. She knows exactly what he wants to see, and she feels herself growing warm under his gaze.

All that teasing from earlier, all the anticipation revs back up. She was distracted from it before, worried it all flickered out, but it turns out the embers were still burning strong, waiting to be stoked. Just the vague suggestion of sex enough to set her back ablaze.

She's getting wet just thinking about all the delicious things her husband is about to do to her, while she pushes back the sheets and strips off her clothes. She doesn't do exactly as asked though, had picked out a little strappy leather number for their night that leaves nothing to the imagination. The cutouts could cover her nipples with adjustment but she leaves them out, knowing he wants to see her.

She's so keyed up already, this is going to be _unreal. _

She's sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, legs hanging down demurely crossed as she waits for him.

She gets so caught up in how Robin's describing his tongue on her clit in their texts she almost misses when he comes into the room, looking up just in time to see his eyes widen as he sucks in a breath.

"You are so sexy, my love," he growls and by the time he reaches her he's half hard. It thrills her that he's as desperate as she is—not that it's really a surprise since they've been teasing each other all day.

He claims her mouth in a fierce passionate kiss, one that has her thighs clenching as she parts them for him. He steps between them, that bulge firming up between them as he kisses her harder.

He's far too dressed for these pent up desperate kisses. She wants him inside her, now, might even be wet enough already.

She pulls him down onto the bed as she tugs at his shirt, pulling it over his head and flinging it off toward the hamper.

Robin's hands are roaming, doing delicious things that make her shiver as he starts to attack her neck.

God, that's _good_. This is what she needed all day.

One of those roaming hands slides down between her thighs, through the straps, and he's groaning as he discovers just how wet she is. It's a pleasant surprise that her body is cooperating, but a long day of sexting and desperation seems to be the key.

Robin's thumb rolls gently over her clit and she gasps at the friction where she needs it most. This is what she has needed all day, and she moans softly, hating that she has to choke it back as he firms up his swirls.

She wants to scream the rafters down because this is fantastic, she's been on edge all day and this is perfect. She could come so easily from this, and she can tell from the smirk Robin shoots her that he knows it too.

He loves when she's like this, all riled up and desperate. It doesn't happen all that often anymore, not having the time for it that they used to.

She knows he loves to hear it so she whispers, "Fuck, that's good."

He pants lowly, "Christ Regina, god, you feel so good. I almost thought we wouldn't get to have this."

As if on cue, she hears a cry through the wall and though she doesn't actually believe in jinxes, she's about ready to kill Robin for saying that. Logically she knows it would have happened either way, but come on, why tempt fate like that?

Robin sighs, lowering his head to her chest as he hopefully suggests, "Maybe it will be okay."

It's not likely, Roland is wailing now and one of them needs to go check on him before he wakes Henry. She urges Robin off of her, getting up and grabbing for the robe that hangs on a hook at the front of the closet for this very reason.

She leaves Robin hard and aching in their bed (she's not doing much better herself) as she goes to check on Roland, that radar he seems to have for them trying to get it on thwarting them once again.

But all her frustration leaves when she sees him, his cheeks are all red, and there are tears in his little brown eyes that make her heart clench. This isn't the ordinary wake up, something is wrong, and she knows it.

Sure enough, when she grabs him, he's warm, too warm. She'd noticed he was warm when she kissed him goodnight, but she hadn't thought much of it. She didn't think he was overly heated, but now with her hand on his forehead, he feels hot and she's sure he has a fever, poor boy. She rubs his back as she takes him into the bathroom, reaching into the medicine cabinet to pull out the baby thermometer.

She watches with bated breath as the numbers climb up, finally stopping and beeping at 99.9. While she knows that's not technically a fever, it's concerning and she knows now why her poor sweet boy wasn't able to sleep. She does everything she can to make him comfortable, a cold compress on his forehead, lighter pajamas, and a feeding. She barely breastfeeds any more since she went back to work last month, just morning and night, and it's really more of a comfort thing than a means of sustenance at this point.

She settles them in the rocking chair, and that's where Robin finds them, her rocking back and forth as she holds Roland close and whispers soothing words.

"Is he okay?" Robin asks.

She nods but cautions, "He's sick, has got a bit of a temperature, we'll have to keep an eye on it."

"How much?"

"99.9."

"Could it be more teeth coming in?"

She shrugs offering a simple, "Maybe."

"I'll make sure all the rings are ready to go if you need 'em."

She smiles up at him, whispering, "Thank you."

"Anything for my babies."

She shakes her head playfully, "I am not your baby."

Robin laughs, "Whatever you say, _baby_." Then he ruffles Roland's hair as he whispers, "Feel better soon, little man."

Robin turns to her, giving her a soft peck as he offers to take over once he's finished downstairs.

She shakes her head no. "I'm good here, you go to sleep, I'm going to be here for a while."

"Do you need anything else, love?"

"Can you take that?" she asks, tilting her head toward the not-quite-a-bra she'd shed to feed Roland earlier.

He nods and grabs for it. "Of course, anything else?"

She shakes her head again, looking down at Roland who finally seems to be settling, "No, we're good here."

"Alrighty then, let me know if that changes. I love you both." He gives them each a soft kiss goodbye before turning to head out of the room.

"Oh, and darling," he says, hovering in the doorway, "rain check on those plans, okay?"

She smiles, telling him that sounds lovely before focusing back on their son.

She rocks and rocks in that chair until her eyes start to go heavy, and she reluctantly moves from the comfortable position, standing slowly so as not to jostle her son.

She gets him into the crib and watches him, waiting for any sign the transition has woken him up, but he stays still under her gaze.

So she heads to her bed, stopping to look in Henry's room, finding him dead asleep as he should be. He's kicked all of the covers off, so she slides in in the darkness, pulling his sheet over him carefully.

Then she makes her way to her room, where her husband is also sleeping soundly, and she ditches the panties, then the robe at the foot of the bed, and cuddles up into his warm skin to fall asleep.


	6. Thwarted Part Two

**For OQPromptParty Prompts:  
****13\. -"Why do I even bother with you?"..."You'd miss my face too much if you didn't"  
****25\. Person A is playing a game with one or both of the boys, and Person B secretly watches them.  
125\. OQ teasing each other (non-sexually)**

* * *

Regina is sleeping naked next to him, and that's just unfair. He wants her badly, but Roland was up half the night and Henry will no doubt be up soon.

It wasn't as hard to find time for themselves when it was just Henry, but now that they have two boys, they somehow have ten times the interruptions.

He would not trade their incredible children for the world, but damn does he ever need some alone time with his wife. It's been a couple of weeks, and much longer since they had true alone time. They were both looking forward to the opportunity to take their time, to let go and to be as loud as they wanted.

Sex that isn't rushed foreplay and muffled moans is a luxury. Sex that has absolutely no chance of interruption is a godsend.

They may have gone a little overboard with the anticipation, with all the sexting and planning out their night, but god was it ever going to be good.

He'd woken up hard for her, and the feel of her naked skin against him coupled with all of the teasing from yesterday has him ridiculously horny for her.

But that's not a need he can address now, all he can do is ensure she gets a decent sleep. Though he'd like nothing more than to roll over and ravish her, he has to save it. There's no way he could wake her up and get them off before Henry got up, it would just lead to even more sexual frustration for them. Plus she needs her sleep more than an orgasm. He loves her too much to put his need ahead of hers for a decent sleep.

Maybe they'll get lucky and it will be just a tooth coming in, so they can pawn their children off on Mal or John for an hour or two, just enough time to satiate their desires, and shower to remove the evidence.

He should have gotten her off in the shower yesterday, should have gotten them both off. That was a rookie mistake, he should know better than to waste an opportunity like that, but he'd wanted her all riled up, wanting him all day, and look where that got them.

Mary Margaret promised to make it up to them, and as she's off of work starting next Thursday, he knows she'll deliver on that—unless of course she delivers first, which would be just their luck recently.

He sighs as he looks at his wrist again, as if somehow checking the time again will turn back the clock. It's 7:05 and Henry will be up any minute now.

He reluctantly untangles himself from his far too sexy wife and gets himself out of bed, so he can ensure the children don't wake her.

* * *

Roland is grumpy today. He woke up far too early for how late he was up and is still sporting that low grade fever from last night. Robin checked on him after Henry got up, managed to catch him before he could wake up Regina.

Roland has the sniffles, had sneezed a couple of times in the morning, then sported the cutest little confused expression over what had just occurred. It's not the first time he's sneezed in his life, but he clearly didn't remember that. He made a face similar to the first time he had a lemon, and Robin had reached for his phone far too belatedly and missed the moment.

The sneezing just made him grumpier, and a grumpy Roland is only soothed by cuddles, so Robin's had him strapped to his chest for most of the morning. It was only when Regina came down that he took a break, passing Roland off so she could feed him and Robin could go take a shower.

Now Roland's half asleep again against his chest, and this is one of those times he's grateful his son is so tiny. He was 5lbs 4oz at birth and is nineteen pounds now, a milestone Henry hit by seven months. The sling distributes enough of Roland's weight that Robin could stay like this most of the day, and probably will.

He doesn't know when Regina finally turned in last night, but he knows it was late, and it's clear that she didn't sleep well.

She's yawning as she sits with Henry, listening to him chatter on as he colours in his Spiderman book. She's usually much more engaged with it, and Henry can tell, is frowning at her, then says, "Mommy, listen."

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'm listening now."

"I wanna fly."

She raises a brow at that, chuckling a little. "Oh, you do?"

"I wanna have webbies come outta my hands and fly, can I?"

Regina yawns again, before telling him that no he can't do that.

Somehow thinking his father will give him a different answer, Henry turns to Robin and asks him.

Robin shakes his head and reminds him, "Mommy said no. And even if she didn't, only Spiderman can do that. It's his power, no one else's."

"Aw, man," Henry sighs overdramatically, using his new catchphrase that has only just stopped making Robin laugh every time he uses it.

"Daddy? Daddy?" Robin looks back over at Henry, "I wanna be Spiderman."

He should have known that was coming and walks closer to admire the drawing as he reminds him, "Spiderman is the only Spiderman."

"But, but, but, I wanna be him, _please_."

Robin rubs Henry's back. "Sorry, buddy."

He takes a look at the page Henry's been colouring, he's getting better at it, isn't in the lines, but he is getting closer.

"What if I got a spider?"

He's not sure if this is still about Spiderman or if Henry has again decided a spider would make a good pet. "What?"

"If I have a spider, then I'm Spiderman?"

He can appreciate that logic, but dashes his son's hopes again with a, "Not quite."

"That's no fun."

Regina sniffles, then sneezes beside Henry, and Robin worries she's coming down with whatever Roland has. That's always how it seems to go when one of the children is sick, they'll be down for a few days then take one of their parents out for a week.

Robin must make a face because after her second sneeze (she never sneezes just once), because she looks at him pointedly and says, "It's allergy season, relax."

"Could Roland have allergies?" he asks. As someone who's never had seasonal allergies, he doesn't know when they normally start. He hadn't even known Regina had them until they moved in together and he'd noticed the bottle of Reactin in the medicine cabinet.

"Maybe?"

Henry must decide they are both boring because he switches to a new page in his book and grabs for another crayon, focusing down on the page.

"I thought you were the allergy expert," he teases Regina, and he's not at all surprised when she rolls her eyes at him.

"Oh yes, because I have allergies that automatically makes _me_ the expert."

He shrugs before leaning onto Henry's chair. "Well, more expert than me."

"I mean that is sort of a given. I'm more expert than you at a lot of things."

"Yeah, like allergies and braces."

She scowls at him, and he's tempted to take his phone out and take a photo of it, but she hates when he does that. He loves his candid photos of her but she is not a fan, preferring he saves that impulse for the kids.

"Oh shut it, you," she mutters, "you with your perfect skin, perfect eyesight and perfect genes—"

He can't resist a cheeky, "Don't forget my incredible good looks—"

She narrows her eyes at him and shakes her head. "Why do I even bother with you?"

"You'd miss my face too much if you didn't."

Her brows arch at that but he knows she's amused. "You sure think highly of yourself."

"Mommy, Daddy, look!" Henry grouses, not at all happy they took their attention off of him.

"Very pretty, sweetheart," Regina says, then she yawns again and Robin urges her to go take a nap.

"But I don't wanna nap," Henry grumbles.

"Not you buddy, Mommy."

Henry looks up at Regina with wide eyes, "Mommy's gonna nap?"

She nods, "I'm really tired. Your brother kept me up late last night."

"But naps are so boring."

She chuckles, "Maybe to you, but one day you'll see that naps are actually great."

Henry shakes his head vehemently, his tone surprisingly firm as he exclaims, "Nope. _Never_."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart."

She gets up out of the chair but Henry stops her, "Wait, Mommy, I didn't kiss you goodnight."

She leans down and Henry gives her a wet, sloppy kiss that she waits until she's out of his sight to wipe off. She mouths at Robin to wake her if she needs him, and he mouths back that he will, though he has absolutely no intention of doing so.

He settles into Regina's former seat adjusting a mostly asleep Roland into a more comfortable position, then attempts to keep Henry occupied and at a reasonable volume so his mom and his brother can sleep.

* * *

When Regina wakes up she feels slightly better, still sluggish, still could use a full night of uninterrupted sleep, but better.

The house is surprisingly quiet, and her curiosity over what Robin did to make that happen outweighs the general laziness she's feeling.

She'd slept in his clothes, a baggy t-shirt and that old pair of sweats with the drawstring that are basically hers now. She changes into one of her tank tops but she leaves on the pants because it's the weekend and her kid is sick, so who cares?

When she comes downstairs, Henry and Robin are sitting on the couch, Roland is on Robin's lap, reaching for the cards in his hand.

She's not sure what they are playing, but Henry is engrossed in the game, focusing intently on his cards, frowning as he looks from them over at Robin's hand, then down at the pile on the cushion between them.

"Gimmie a one."

"An ace," Robin corrects, "And go fish."

"Aw, man," Henry sighs as he reaches into the pile, but then his eyes light up. It's a good thing Go Fish isn't a bluffing game (though he has been known to try and cheat every now and again, his face always giving him away), because it's clear he got something he wanted.

She's hovering in the doorway, unnoticed by any of her boys. She doesn't want to interrupt so she just watches as they play the game she usually finds extremely boring, but today is oddly fascinating.

It's not really the game, it's them, it's watching her husband interact with their sons, watching how Roland keeps trying to grab for the cards in Robin's hand instead of the deck he could actually reach on the cushion if he tried. Watching how Henry's face lights up every time he gets to take a card from his father, and the gleeful way Henry squeals 'Go fish' when Robin asks for the wrong cards.

It's when Henry drops his cards a second time—he has too many for his little hands to hold—that she finally makes her presence known. She moves into the room and settles down beside him so she can assist him with his fist full of cards.

As she does, she helps Henry sort his cards so all of the matching cards are together, smiling as her son curls up onto her lap.

Their cuddle doesn't last all that long, with her help (and no doubt Robin's as well) Henry wins the game, then Roland's sniffling sadly and she takes him upstairs to see if she can get him to nap. It's a little late for a nap, but he didn't sleep well, and he needs it.

She rocks and rocks him in the rocking chair, but as soon as she tries to move him to the crib, he wakes up. He needs the nap, so she texts Robin to grab her book and her glasses as she lets Roland sleep on her chest.

He stays asleep for over an hour and she's glad for her book, even though she wasted the first half an hour or so aimlessly scrolling through social media.

It's nearing dinner time when Roland does wake up, and she's glad for it because she was getting sleepy and the gentle rocking was lulling her, and she was starting to have trouble staying awake.

She should try and rain check the sex plans with Robin, but as she prepares dinner for them all, all she can think about is knocking out early, something that's not likely to happen because Roland's still sniffly and cranky.

His nap helped a bit, but it will probably make it harder to get him back to sleep, and that is not something she's looking forward to. Roland is hard to put to bed at the best of times, but when he's overtired it's always worse.

She'd hoped he'd grow out of it, that he'd come to love sleep the way Henry did as a toddler, but that hasn't happened yet, maybe someday.

Though she doesn't want to admit it, her arousal fizzled out when she realized Roland wasn't feeling well. His illness left her on edge and worried, unlocked her overprotective helicopter mom impulses. She kept thinking he was going to wake up again, worrying that he was going to get sicker and it kept her up long after Roland had fallen asleep, which ended up working out when he woke again at four am.

She had really been looking forward to a night alone with her husband, and they do need it, but she's happy Mary Margaret cancelled now that Roland is sick.

She knows Robin will understand, but she still feels bad that all that work he put in, all that tension he built up over the day just vanished. It's gone, and she's far too tired to try and get it back tonight.

She is half asleep as they watch Moana after dinner, and it's Robin who suggests she turn in early, and that he will handle bedtime. Not one to argue with more sleep, she kisses all of her boys goodnight and heads upstairs.

* * *

Roland seems okay by Monday, but his wife takes the day off anyway just to be sure and works from home on Tuesday in case the daycare calls.

They didn't, which gives him an idea. Mary Margaret is taking the kids Saturday night, assuming all is well with them, so they could wait until then, but he also has no reason to be in his office Thursday, had planned to be on _do not disturb_ so he could get a factum done, which is easier done at home.

If he can just talk his wife into another work from home day, they can have a lunchtime rendezvous.

The kids are both in bed when he makes his proposal, his wife in the bathroom doing her nightly routine.

He plants a kiss on that sensitive spot on her neck then trails up to her ear. "I was thinking, Mrs. Locksley, what if you stayed home on Thursday and I ravished you at lunch? Would you like that?"

He sees her eyes widen in the mirror, feels her sharp inhale of breath and knows he's intrigued her.

She arches her neck toward him so he kisses back down it and she hums pleasantly before responding. "That could work, but why wait until then?"

She presses her body more firmly into his and he groans as she rocks her fine ass against him.

"Why indeed," he murmurs, grabbing her hips suggestively. Her hands cover his, then she's turning his hands moving to her ass, hers to his neck, her lips finding his for a deep sensual kiss.

"Take me to bed, Mr. Locksley," she purrs when the kiss breaks, and yes, please.

They make their way to their bed amidst a slew of kisses. They haven't lost a stitch of clothing but he's already hard, and by the way she's panting he thinks she's in a similar state.

As much he wants to really enjoy her, to rile her up until she can't take anymore they really don't have time for that, and with all the interruptions they've had he's not about to take his chances. They can take things slow on Saturday.

He strips her quickly, throwing her clothes behind them onto the floor, something she hates but appears to be letting slide today.

His clothes join hers on the floor, and she lays down onto the bed pulling him down with her. They scoot up while kissing, his one elbow bracing his weight as his right hand travels down her body.

She gasps as he sinks a finger inside her, then another, crooking them up toward her g-spot as his palm grinds against her clit.

"Oh, that's good, yeah like that," she sighs in this way that goes straight to his cock.

"Fuck, I need you, darling," he pants, then her hand is sliding between them, is on him, tugging slowly and god is it ever good.

He busies his mouth, sampling her neck as his fingers thump inside her the way she needs, getting her ready for him.

Her strokes are slow but sure, enough to relieve some pressure, but not enough to build him up and he's grateful for that because he's not sure how long he'll be able to last with how badly he needs her right now.

Then she lets out this moan when he firms up the movement of his fingers and it makes his cock throb.

"Fuck, love I need—"

"Fuck me, Robin," she breathes and thank god she's not wanking him anymore because he moans and his cock twitches and throbs in response to the sensual sound.

He is so far gone, he doesn't know how he's going to last long enough to get her off, but he's going to give it his damn best.

To help with that, he rolls off of her and urges her onto her knees. This position is one of their favourites, it gets her off fast, and her ass is fucking fantastic from this angle.

He grips her hip in one hand, his cock in the other and starts to sink into her but she groans uncomfortably. She feels wet enough, but he knows that noise, knows this isn't quite enough and he slips out of her as she shifts forward reaching into the nightstand for the lube.

When they are all slick and slippery the bottle gets tossed on top of the nightstand and sinks into her with a deep groan.

She gasps softly, "Oh fuck, yes that's it," when he's all the way and it has him groaning in response. He wants to hear her, misses when they could be as loud as they wanted, but fuck this is good too. This is what he needed, god, he's missed this.

He's fucking her, hard and fast and it's amazing, she's so warm, so slick, so tight and she keeps making these soft sounds that tell him she's enjoying it just as much as he is.

He fucks her hard, deeper, and he can feel the tension starting to wind in his gut, as her hand reaches for her clit.

"Oh, yes, love, do that, get—"

His words are cut off by a flash of lightning and a loud crack of thunder that makes them both freeze.

Fuck, fuck _no_. Henry is terrified of thunder. Maybe he's still asleep, maybe they'll get lucky and it will just be that one clap. If it's not a storm they should be okay.

She turns her head to look at him and nods when they lock eyes. He thrusts once, then twice, starting back up a rhythm until thunder cracks again.

The universe is conspiring against them, there is no other explanation.

Henry yells out a frightened, "Mommy!" from his bedroom, and they disentangle themselves, Regina throwing on a nightdress just in time for Henry to bust into the room.

Robin's hidden himself under the covers, belatedly noticing the bottle of lube is still sitting on the nightstand, shit. He can't reach for it without drawing attention to it.

Henry doesn't notice that or the strewn clothes, his fear all-consuming. He's shaking, his stuffed lion pressed up against his chest, lower lip wobbling.

Regina scoops him up into her arms, whispering soft words he can't make out, one's that help to calm Henry. She's an amazing mother, he knows she doesn't see it that way, but she is.

Robin is not at all surprised when the next words out of Henry's mouth are, "Can I sleep with you guys?"

But god, no, not now, not when he's naked and still all lubed up. His erection is mostly gone, but this is not a state he wants to be in with his son in bed with them.

Bless his wife, she suggests they go back to Henry's room and Henry agrees, but only if Mommy sleeps with him, which they both knew was coming. Regina sends him a sympathetic smile then they are off and he's cursing this ridiculous string of bad luck.


	7. Thwarted Part Three

**For OQPromptParty Prompt 204. Robin + Regina + bathtub**

* * *

Thursday finds him sleeping in so late that his wife has to wake him up so he doesn't miss work time. He didn't set an alarm, because he thought he'd get up with her, thought he'd flirt with her shamelessly and build up the anticipation, but he hadn't counted on half-waking up then rolling over and falling back asleep.

It sets him behind on his day, and his plans, but it's fine, he may have to work a little longer into the evening, but the upcoming afternoon delight should help fuel his mid-day productivity.

Regina's in the office and he's set up in the dining room. She has to walk by him on her way to get coffee, and he decides he can flirt with her when she gets her next cup.

So he does just that. She comes down for a refill at eleven and he flirts with her shamelessly, starts telling her how he's going to kiss down her chest, then take up residence between her thighs, go down on her until she comes, then fuck her until she comes again.

He watches as her eyes darken and her cheeks heat, then she's stepping in, leaning over his chair so she can whisper, "Why don't you come do all those things now?"

He pulls her down onto his lap as he remarks, "Oh, you naughty girl, suggesting skeeving off your workday like that to get laid."

"Well, not to be too practical but I do have a meeting at one," she pauses to kiss him softly, "so it's probably better to take an early lunch over a later one anyway…"

She doesn't need to say more, he's at a good spot to take a break—why delay their satisfaction. They've had enough of that this week. He pulls her in for a deeper kiss, his hands roaming her back, hers fisting in his hair.

He'd gotten himself off during the thunderstorm, had taken advantage of his already lubed up cock and rubbed one out to the memories of what they had been doing, to a fantasy of them continuing. It was a much needed release but has done nothing to curb his desire for her.

Still though, he feels a little guilty that she's gone without (to the best of his knowledge anyway) so he's determined to do right by her with a good thorough round of oral.

It's been a while since he's gotten her off like that, when it wasn't just foreplay to lead up to the main event. There was a time when he almost always got her off before the sex started but that was before full-time jobs, before children and sleep deprivation and never having long periods of alone time.

But they have that now (or sort of do), and he's about to take advantage.

His work is spread out on this side of the table, but there's plenty of room to spread her out on the other end, so when she stands and grabs his hand to help him up, he follows, but only as far as the corner of the table. Then he surprises her by pulling her into his arms for another heated kiss, kneading her ass as he presses himself into her.

"Mmm, Robin," she sighs as he kisses along her jawline, "Oh, that's good, but, mmm, bedroom?"

"We're all alone, my love. I think I'll take you right here."

She gasps at that, then louder when he scoops her up and places her onto the table. Her legs hook around him and they kiss and kiss until they are both breathless.

He strips off her top, pleased to discover she's gone braless.

Then he descends down, down her neck, her chest, lets his tongue graze over her nipples in that gentle way that makes goosebumps flare. She's so sensitive there now, can only take small soft touches, nothing firm and no sucking—that action is reserved for their son and is the last thing he wants her thinking of as he does this.

He slides over a chair, sinking into it as he goes lower and lower, kissing down her stomach, his intent clear.

He looks up to see her watching wide eyed with anticipation, lifts her hips for him when he reaches her pants and undoes them. He slides them and her underwear off together, then parks himself between her thighs, resting them on the armrests of his chair.

They don't have all day but he's taking advantage of this opportunity to linger. He starts to trail kisses up her thighs, making her squirm and moan as his tongue flicks over sensitive skin.

He's a couple of inches from her sex when she begs, "Robin, please, I need your mouth," and he shivers at the erotic sound.

"Oh, do you?" he asks before moving to her other thigh, snickering at the plaintive mewl she lets out.

"Yes, fuck. Please, I need it so badly. I'm dying here, please." He nips gently at her inner thigh and she gasps, "OH, god."

"Fuck, _please_," she begs again, and he decides he's tortured her enough.

He licks at the hinge of her thigh then kisses in and she moans loudly before he's even reached her sex. God, he loves when she's like this. Loves when she can be loud when he can draw out this sexy as sin sounds from her.

The moan she lets out when he covers her clit with his mouth is glorious as is the one she makes when he sucks her between his lips.

Her hand comes to his head, pressing him further into her as she pleads, "Don't stop," and he has no intention of doing so.

He loves doing this for her, doesn't get enough chances to do this anymore and it's a real shame. She deserves to be showered in pleasure, to feel this all the time.

To make it better, he brings his fingers into the mix, thrusting them up toward the spongy spot, knowing he's got it by the way she shudders and gasps.

Her thighs are closing in on his head and he uses his one hand to keep her spread open for him as he feasts.

She's getting close now, he can tell by the way her hips have started to rock into him involuntarily, how she's folding in on herself and her cries have grown sharper and more delirious.

Dimly, he hears Regina's phone going off upstairs, and he's not sure whether she just doesn't hear it through the haze of her pleasure or if she's ignoring it, but either way he follows suit.

"Oh, god, I'm _so close,_ don't stop. Robin, god, don't stop."

He won't, nothing can stop him now, he's going to get her off right here, right now.

But then his phone rings, but not his usual ringtone, no, it's the one reserved for potential emergencies, his ringtone for Regina, the daycare and the school. The one that he cannot ignore.

_Fuck_.

He gets up, leaving a bereft Regina and managing to get to his phone on the very last ring.

"Robin Locksley," he breathes heavily, then listens. It's Henry's school—their son has peed his pants and needs a change of clothes. The person informs him they'd called Regina first but she hadn't called back, and he assures them he'll take care of it.

Regina's still perched on the table, legs crossed now, facing him, waiting for him to get off the phone, then asks, "What happened?"

"I need to bring Henry clothes, he had an accident. I'm sorry, love."

He goes over to give her a quick peck and she makes him groan when she pulls him down for a deep open mouthed kiss.

She pouts as he pulls away, but gets up off the table and heads toward the stairs with him.

When they reach the top, he asks suspiciously, "Where are you going?"

She's still naked and he knows without her cheeky, "To the bedroom," that she's about to go finish herself off without him.

He pouts, "Without me," trying to keep his mind from the hot image of his wife getting herself off.

"Sorry, _Mr. Locksley,_" she breathes as she turns to head down the hall, her ass swaying deliciously, "but that's the third time you've left me wet and needy."

"Not intentionally," he grumbles as he follows behind.

She softens as she turns back to him, hovering in their doorway. "I know, I would stop and save it for you, but I have that meeting and I can't be distracted." She smirks at him, "But don't worry, I will be thinking of you the whole time."

God, this is not helping him lose his boner, not at all, but he's a glutton for punishment and he winks at her as he suggests, "Take pics, or better, take a video."

"You'd like that wouldn't you," she muses and he wonders if she's actually considering it. They've traded explicit material before, he still has the pictures and videos from that semester they were long distance, but it's been a long time since his wife sent him a nude. He knows she's self-conscious now, thinks that having their children ruined her body, but it's so far from the truth, and he tackles every chance he can to try and dispel that notion.

"I would give _everything_ for it," he tells her earnestly.

"Mmm maybe, now hurry up and get your ass to school, our son is waiting. The sooner you go, the more likely you are to get a reward."

He yells, "Yes, ma'am," over his shoulder as he rushes into Henry's room and he hears her snickering as their door shuts.

* * *

When Robin arrives at the school, two pictures and a video have made their way onto his phone, and he's itching to watch them but not now, not yet.

He waits until he's delivered the clothing, talks to an embarrassed Henry who's insisting he didn't pee, that he must have sat in something, that someone else did it. Henry's lying, Robin can tell, Henry's a terrible liar, always contorts his face in these weird ways or goes completely blank, both of which always give him away. Normally, Robin would call him on it, but Henry's extremely embarrassed, so he assures his son there's nothing wrong with having an accident, lies and says it happened to him in second grade, too, and manages to put a smile on Henry's face even though he's still denying it was him that peed.

Robin almost forgets about his gift, but when he gets back in the car he goes to text Regina and all thoughts leave him. He should not look at these in the school parking lot, definitely shouldn't watch the minute and a half long video she sent him, but he can't resist.

He stares at the first photo, a shot of her naked sitting up in their bed, her nipples pert and hard, and he _wants her_. The second shot is of her lower half, and it makes his mouth go dry as he takes in the toy between her legs.

The video is the stuff of wet dreams, he watches it on silent even though he's alone in the car, watches as she pans her phone from between her legs up to her face, watches as her face contorts and she moans and moans, throwing her head back and arching as she comes, then sags, opening her eyes to smile at him blissfully as the video ends.

Holy hell, that was hot as fuck. He saves it and the pictures, immediately stashing them away in the private folder for a later viewing before deleting them from their text history.

He sends her a 'God bless you' and a promise to make it up to her later, then heads home, trying to keep his mind on the road and not his incredibly sexy wife.

* * *

He's still working at ten pm when she comes to check on him. He'd taken the office when she'd finished up for the day, and had worked through dinner and bedtime, but still isn't done. He'd been distracted all afternoon, kept thinking back on their dining room rendezvous and those delicious pictures and that video. Now he's paying for his distraction.

He has another hour or so to go, and tells her that when she asks as she passes him a glass of scotch.

She sighs, and he knows what she's going to say before it even leaves her lips, so he saves her the trouble. "You're going to bed."

She nods, "I'm sorry, I just have a big day tomorrow."

"It's okay, love. I can survive one more night."

"What about two?"

He narrows his eyes and parrots back, "What about two?"

"Let's just wait until Saturday night. Then we can be as loud as we want with no chance of interruption. With how our luck's been going, something will happen tomorrow night if we try, and we know we have Saturday to ourselves…"

"With how our luck is going, Mary Margaret will probably go into labour," he grouses, though he takes her point.

Regina laughs at that, "I'll tell Mary Margaret to keep that kid in, how about that?"

He chuckles too, "Sounds like a plan."

Regina leans in, steals a kiss from him then whispers goodnight, wishing him a productive night and hoping he doesn't stay up too late.

He doesn't, it takes another two hours but then he has a finished product he'll edit tomorrow before submitting and retires to their bedroom, thinking it's a good idea he didn't ask her to stay up.

She's out like a light and so gorgeous in her peaceful state. He can't resist snapping a quick photo of it then he kisses her forehead and climbs in with her.

* * *

They are both waiting for the other shoe to drop as they leave their kids at Mary Margaret's after dinner on Saturday night.

Both boys had gone down easily on Friday night and both slept in, something that never happens. She and Robin easily could have indulged this morning but were both too wary to do so.

They're alone now and Regina's still wary, keeps waiting for her phone to ring, for Mary Margaret to call and say they have to come get the boys for whatever reason.

Her mental state is not at all conducive to the fun sex-filled night they are supposed to have, but with how things have been going, she can't be blamed for worrying about interruptions, can she?

She feels a bit bad she didn't wait for tonight, that she'd gotten herself off on Thursday afternoon, but she was so close when that call came in, and was still aching for it as Robin told her about Henry's accident (that he still won't admit was him). She needed the relief and it felt _amazing _but it would have been better with him. She did record it for him—feeling ridiculous and self-conscious for the first few seconds until the pleasure overcame her—but it's not the same.

If this were last Friday, they'd be all over each other, but they hadn't wanted to risk sparking that level of desperate arousal lest they be thwarted again.

This is not how she pictured their night alone, both of them gawking at each other awkwardly instead of getting down to it, but Regina doesn't know how to reset the mood.

"I, um, I don't really know how to start this," she tells him. "I could go change?"

"That leather set was hot as fuck, but why don't we ease into it. We have _all night_ after all."

Something about his tone and the sentiment has her cheeks warming. She knows they'll have sex and lots of it, but the way Robin is looking at her makes her wonder if she can handle what he wants. While they've had many a sex marathon over the years, gone are the days of multiple orgasms every time, and her stamina is lacking.

But they don't have to get their kids until lunch time tomorrow. They can ravage each other into the morning and still end up with a decent night's sleep.

"How exactly are we easing into it?" she asks, stepping into his space and watching as he inhales sharply as her lips graze over his neck.

"Mmm, well, I was thinking, a nice bath to start, relax us both and take our mind off of everything."

That's… "Perfect."

He takes her hand and leads her up the stairs. "If you don't mind, I'd like to do the honours of stripping you."

That's more than fine with her, "Only if I can do the same."

He smirks, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

God, she loves this man, has for fifteen years now, but it still strikes her from time to time how lucky she is to be with him, to love him, to have their family. She met the love of her life at twenty-three years old, and now they are nearing their forties, just as in love, if not more.

They've been through more than their fair share of heartbreak and loss, but they've gotten through it all together and will get through anything else the same way.

Even fifteen years into their relationship, Robin can still make her go all mushy, can still have her distracted and dopey over his actions, can still whisper a dirty sentiment in her ear and have her immediately riled and distracted.

There's a lot less sex now, but they were never just sex—even when they were supposed to be. She's never loved anyone like she loves him, like she loves their children, and the life they've built together.

A bath together is perfect, a way to reconnect physically in an intimate way over a sexual one (or knowing him, both).

He takes his time stripping her of her boring sweater and slacks, pulls the sweater over her head oh so slowly, then runs his hands up and down the skin he exposed, gentle, intimate touches that have her smiling softly.

He does the same when her pants are off, runs his hands as far down her legs as he can, spending more time than necessary on her ass, his hands drawn there like they always are.

When he pops her bra off, he grazes his fingertips down the sides of each breast, making goosebumps flare from the subtle pleasure of his delicate touch.

He sinks to his knees to slide down her underwear, oh so carefully, slipping them down her thighs, then running his hands up her legs, making her shiver and gasp.

He's so good at this, the subtle pleasure, makes her nerve endings come alight with his general touches and brushes. He knows every single sensitive spot on her body and she knows he's going to exploit that tonight.

When he stands again, she reaches for the buttons of his shirt, realizing that they haven't spoken in several minutes, the silence just adding to the intimate mood.

She undoes his shirt button by button and he's watching her, watching each movement of her fingers as they trail down his chest. When she has it undone, she reaches for his shoulders, pushing his shirt slowly down them.

He looks so beautiful like this, frozen, waiting for her to bestow whatever attention she wants on him. She can't help but break the silence as she starts on his pants by whispering to him how good he looks and that she loves him.

Just like his shirt she keeps it slow, they have all night, no sense in rushing through this part. He steps out of his pants, eyes locked on hers and she feels so connected to him right now, it's incredible.

Then she tackles his boxers, being delicate with them too, noting with a smirk the way he's half hard from her attention.

She hasn't done anything intentionally arousing, neither has he, but the intimacy of it all seems to be turning him on as much as her.

It's been a long time since they could take this much time with each other, could genuinely enjoy each other, without needing to speed up to get off.

They stand just looking at each other for a moment, taking in each other's naked form. Robin's eyes are wide, pupils blown, showing her with every movement that he still finds her as attractive as when they first met. It's not an easy feat, but he almost has her convinced he really does think she's still as beautiful and desirable with her extra pounds, wrinkles, stretch marks and perpetual bags under her eyes.

She understands it though, the silver patches in his hair have only made him more attractive and those lines on his face make him look more distinguished, seasoned, but in a good way.

She would think it's unfair that he's only gotten more attractive as time goes on, but his eyesight seems to have waned with it, because he still looks at her like she's a supermodel when she decidedly is not.

He can make her feel like hot shit when she looks like crap, and it's one of the many _many_ things she loves about him.

Robin chuckles softly, and she knows it's not at her, but arches a brow which has him telling her, "I just realized we never started the bath."

She laughs then, and follows him into the bathroom to do just that. She trusts him to set up a good bath, but he did want her to relax fully, so she's going to add a bath bomb and some essential oils to ensure that happens.

They smile at each other like idiots as they wait for the bath to fill, Robin belatedly remembering he bought champagne for the occasion.

He walks stark naked through their home to get it and something about it has her snickering. While he's gone, she throws her hair up into a messy bun—she doesn't want her hair to get wet during their relaxing bath and bother them during all the sex.

Robin comes back with the bottle and two glasses, the stems tucked in between his fingers in a way that cannot be comfortable, but he doesn't complain.

Their bath is almost ready as he pours them each a glass.

When he passes her her drink, he holds his glass up in the air for a toast, and she raises hers in turn, curious about what he's going to say.

"A toast, to my dear wife, the sexy vixen I've been lucky enough to spend my life with. I love you, Regina. And I'm so happy to have this time together."

He is so good with words, has made her cry with sweet sentiments more times than she can count, but _this_ she can handle. Her voice doesn't wobble and her eyes are definitely not watering when she clicks her glass to his and offers, "To my husband, the best man I know."

The broad grin he gives her takes her breath away, then he's sipping at his glass, she does the same, before he sets his down and stops the tub.

"After you, milady," he says as he offers her a hand into the tub. She steps in gingerly, letting the warmth shoot up her leg before she sinks into it.

She moans softly as the warm fragrant water engulfs her. This must be what heaven feels like. When Robin joins her and starts to massage her neck, she's blissed out and boneless within minutes.

She's still holding her glass of champagne, taking the occasional sip when she has the brainpower to do more than just feel.

She's more relaxed than she's been in a long time, and Robin was so smart for starting them off like this. All her stress and tension have melted away as he strokes over tight muscles and the water lulls her.

She sinks further into his back, feels the heat of skin even in the warm bath, and it soothes her even more.

She's lulled half-asleep when his touches grow more intentional, when his lips drop to her neck as his fingertips trace the edges of her breasts.

She arches her neck for him, opening it more fully to his advances and he takes advantage, planting kiss after kiss to her neck as his finger dances across her breasts, never touching where she really needs it.

He builds her up slowly, teasing caresses as his lips explore every inch of her neck and shoulders, and while she can feel her arousal growing, it's not urgent, not overwhelming, she's with him in this moment, is enjoying his lazy enjoyment of her.

When his hand slides down her belly, heat skitters through her because she knows where he's headed, or she thinks she does.

It turns out to be just a tease, but his lips are becoming more insistent against her, and his hands are now grazing over the spots he had been avoiding.

When his rough fingertip delicately slides over her nipple, she moans heatedly, delighted when he bites into her neck with a groan of his own.

She's so _so _sensitive to these soft touches, something he discovered when Henry was still a baby and has been exploiting since she had Roland. She's past the point where his touches hurt, where they had to avoid certain positions because her boobs were too full and achy, now it's all so good and she relishes in how these gentle brushes light her up, over how sensitive she is to even the tiniest of touch.

When she had Henry there was a period where she worried she'd never again find her breasts sexual, would never again enjoy that kind of stimulation, but she was wiser this time, knew that full oversensitivity would pass with time as she stopped being the only means of sustenance for Roland.

Then Robin tugs at her nipples, in that way he discovered she likes so much and she's moaning again, unmuffled and full throated the way she can rarely be.

Robin loves it, she can feel him starting to rise up against her ass and so she rocks back into his growing erection as his hands grow bolder.

Now her need is starting to get the better of her, she's flushed and flustered, warm in her lower belly and starting to throb for attention lower down.

Robin's hands skirt in teasingly, down her sex but flaring out onto her inner thighs instead of where she needs it

"Tease," she breathes, and she feels his answering chuckle against her neck. It makes her clench, as does how he drags his nails back up her thighs.

"Just enjoying my beautiful wife," he breathes, and she turns over her shoulder to smile at him.

He smiles back, then he's kissing her, the angle awkward, but they make it work.

"Now lie back and enjoy," he commands breathlessly as their lips part, and she does just that.

She enjoys how his hands roam her sex, how one comes up to tease her nipple as he whispers in her ear how much he wants her, how she's so sexy and how he can't wait to spend his night bringing her pleasure, bringing her up and up over and over again.

He builds the anticipation with his barely there touches until the tension is thick she can practically taste it, her hips rocking up into nothing inadvertently.

She wants more, needs more, but she is loving this, and she doesn't want to rush this rare opportunity to take it slow.

So she stays pressed up against his back, her legs spread on top of his as his hands roam her body, moaning and gasping as he riles her up.

The first pass of his fingertip over her clit has her moaning headily, her thighs clenching at the too brief but delicious sensation.

Robin chuckles softly over her reaction but it turns into a low moan when she rocks her ass against his hard on.

Though she swore she wouldn't speed this up, she's getting desperate, that soft touch sent her reeling and she needs more. She needs to feel that again, needs to feel him inside her.

"Robin, please," she begs when he does another teasing sweep with his hand that avoids her clit entirely, "I need you. Rub my clit _please_, I'm dying here."

His, "Oh, are you?" is far too smug, but she can't bring herself to care when his finger slips down and inside her.

"Fuck, you really are, aren't you?" he breathes and she nods gasping when he sinks another one into her.

He thrusts once, twice, then he's pulling away his fingers, and no, no.

"Sorry, love, just need more room," he says, as he helps her readjust so she's sitting on him and not between his legs. She's up higher now, and it seems to work better for him because he slides those two fingers back in and curls them against her g-spot.

Heat flares out from his every thrust, and she's moaning with each one, her thighs clenching as she grows closer.

But she needs something on her clit, and she knows that he knows that, but isn't giving it to her.

This is good, so good, but she needs more.

"Please, Robin, my clit…"

"In time, my love, you can take a little more," he whispers in her ear before biting down on the sensitive skin there.

She shivers, cries out, "Oh god," and her hips start to roll again.

She's trembling as he firms up those thrusts, her clit still woefully unattended, his mouth busy against her neck. Pleasure surges through her with each one, she clenches and aches and moans, but doesn't come.

Not until his other hand sneaks between her thigh and rubs firmly against her clit. She lets out a loud gasp at the sharp influx of sensation as everything inside winds tight.

He hasn't even been at it for a minute when it explodes out, hot rushes of bliss flooding her as the dual stimulation prolongs and intensifies her orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," is her constant refrain as the pleasure sloshes through her, leaving her breathless, blissed out and boneless.

Robin's hand stills inside her, but he doesn't withdraw it, not until she starts to come back to herself and turns over her shoulder to breathe, "That was amazing."

His eyes are dark and wanting, and he kisses her deeply, before panting, "I need you."

He's further gone than she realized and his tone makes her thighs clench.

"Then take me," she suggests, and feels his gasp against her neck.

"Not here, I want to fuck you hard."

That sounds like an excellent idea, so she rises out of the tub, grabbing for a towel to dry herself.

She doesn't get very far with that because Robin is on her as soon as he gets out. He claims her mouth for a fierce kiss and he's grabby, his hands digging into her hips, then her ass as he moans.

Their wet skins slide against each other as he backs her into the wall, still kissing her hungrily.

When it breaks, he gives her this hot, dark look that turns her on so much she moans.

He is _desperate _for her, and it thrills her.

"Turn around, love," he begs, and oh, yes.

He's going to fuck her hard against the wall and she can't wait.

She lets out a loud moan he echoes as he sinks into her. Fuck, this is amazing, _this _is what she's been craving for weeks now. God, was it ever worth the wait.

He isn't going slow anymore, and thank god for that, he's thrusting into her roughly, his hands digging into her hips for leverage so he can fuck her hard and deep the way they need.

It only takes the slightest shift of her hips then she's crying out as every thrust hits against her g-spot and oh fuck, oh fuck.

She's babbling again, but so is he, muffled curses and broken declarations of how good she feels and how he's getting close that make her even hotter.

"Fuck, love, I'm close, rub your clit, need you to get yourself off on me, please darling."

She loves when he's like this all pent up and wanting, and she does as asked, moving one hand from where it's braced on the wall between her thighs.

She clenches on him as she starts up firm spirals against her clit and it makes him curse under his breath. She knows it's a good curse, and he confirms that when he follows it with, "Oh, fuck, love—I'm so fucking close, you feel too good, I _need_ you to come for me."

She'd tease him there's no such thing as too good, but she's also right on the edge so she just moans and urges him to fuck her harder.

After his next moan, his teeth sink into her shoulder and that bite of pain has her gasping and growing even closer.

His voice shakes as he pleads, "God, I can't—I need you to come. Please god—"

She lets out a loud cry as she pitches over, shaking and shuddering as ecstasy floods her veins. He follows immediately, a great relieved groan sounding off in her ear as he thrusts erratically and spills inside her. Little aftershocks ripple through her as he sags into her and they both moan softly when she clenches on his softening cock in response.

Fuck, that was incredible, and she doesn't need to look at him to know there's more to come. She turns to kiss him, trades slow, lazy afterglow kisses with him for several minutes and her breathing levels out. He's dribbling down her leg, and she should do something about that, should clean up before the next round. She looks around the room for something to use and it's only then she realizes their bath is still set up.

Robin follows her gaze over to the tub and chuckles, then suggests, "Why don't we get back in, enjoy more of that champagne and clean up a little?"

She can't resist teasing him by shaking her naked body and asking, "Are you sure you don't want to enjoy more of this?"

"Oh, trust me, I do. I thought we could clean up and relax for a bit, then I'd take you to our bed, have you sit on my face and eat at you until you scream."

He's smirking at her, and she gives him her own in response, "Then I'll climb down your body and fuck the life out of you."

He groans as she knew he would, then murmurs, "I fucking love you."

She snickers, tells him, "I fucking love you, too," then climbs back into the tub to rest up before round two.

When they go to get their children the next day, Mary Margaret takes one look at them, raises a brow and whispers, "Looks like you two had a fun night," a statement they cannot disagree with.

They'd fucked well into the evening and again when they woke up, and she's feeling it today. Not one to be ashamed, she just raises her brows back at Mary Margaret and offers a teasing wink before going to get her children.


End file.
